I should have let you go when I had the chance.
I should have seen this was too good to be true.
I should’ve known that I’d find the truth between your lies.
As much as I wanted to believe you meant it, I knew.
As much as I said I wouldn’t let you do it all over again, you tried.
As much as you say you love me, if my silence doesn’t make your heart ache, it was never meant to love me in the first place.
I have no words. No words for how I feel or why I feel this way. So I have no words.
And it’s frightening as all hell.
I think I’d rather be numb and not feel anything. Not breathe. Or live.
Than this, any longer.
All I’ll ever have are the memories. I don’t know if they were real, or a dream. Disingenuous, or authentic.
But now it’s all that’s left. All I have. Real or not. Lies or truth. You or the idea of you.
Fake or not, I can’t stand how much I miss you. And how much I know you…. don’t.
I called you.
A hour and 56 minutes after you walked away from me.
I was calling to tell you that I want you in my life. No matter how fucked up life is right now. No matter how fucked it up it could be. Will be.
I called you.
I was calling to tell you that I forgave you. For any wrongdoing you’ve ever done to me. And I will keep on forgiving you.
I’m an idiot.
I called you.
I called you to remind you how good you have it. And that you’ll miss me. What you’ll be missing.
And then I realized I shouldn’t have to remind someone why they should…
choose me pick me love me
I called you.
I wanted you to know that you’re loved.
I called you.
“This mailbox is full.”
I have no words. I am empty.
Most moments I am numb but then the waves come and I feel everything. This, is a huge wave.
And I check my phone, nothing. My inbox, nothing. My door, my car…
I looked for you everywhere I went and I found nothing.
So, here I am. Searching.
Searching for words.
Coming up short.
I’m a fool. I’m so stupid.
And if only you were here to give me everything I have nothing of.
Absolutely. Fucking. Nothing.
When you meet someone, you see skin, beautiful eyes, breathtaking smile, brightly colored personality; and you feel warm and fluttery.
But when you meet someone, you don’t know what keeps them up at night, or if they’ve had pain. So much pain it changed them, altered their whole body from skull to toe, sympathetic to nervous system.
You can’t tell that they have days they can’t handle the world. You don’t ask how far the ripples of their anxiety go. How could one tell the trials and tribulations in that first encounter; the one that changed everything.
Soon, you get to know. You see things you didn’t think you would, feel things that were new, deal with pieces of life that are reserved for the very strong and otherworldly, few.
You may think, “I never asked of this.” You may wonder, “If it feels right, does it make it right?” You may turn right around and change your whole mind. Realize that those pieces of life do not belong to you. You are not the chosen one. You didn’t ask for this. This was never in your plan.
Hey, I get it.
Yet, here you are waking up at 4:00am because she can’t sleep. She can’t sleep because without being sedated, heavily heavily sedated she doesn’t sleep. She thinks about nothing and everything–but really, it’s all the same. She’s an insomniac. She has the dark & twisties. She’s straight from Girl, Interrupted…
Yet, here she is apologizing for the fact she can’t sleep. Not wanting to disturb you. Trying to close her eyes until the sun wakes you both up.
And you, awake. Wanting to kiss her mouth with morning breath. Not at all triggered by her side effects and symptoms.
And she, wondering–knowing, that you never asked for this. This was never in your plan but you’re here, loving her for it anyway.
So we wake up to make pho as the moon is still high. I sit on the couch, writing. You’re making pho, the only way I like it. We whisper about nothing but mostly take the time to be near, no distractions–half our world is still sleeping.
Three hours go by, the sun is up. Sleep trial no. 2 is in our cards. And as you lay on my chest to sleep, your breath slowing, calming, I too breathe slower and calmer. I thank you silently to myself because the day we met, this was never what you saw.
But someone and something new. Because although this was not planned, it sure did turn into the best thing we never knew we were missing.
“Don’t forget your worth,” she said.
But, I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.
How do I stay knowing you don’t love me the way I love you.
How do I stay after all the hurtful things you did and said.
How can I stay when we are perfect and everything is fine, we are learning and growing. And the, just.like.that. The first moment of imperfection, the first glimpse of effort being had… you find every excuse to not be here.
You tell me we’re breaking up.
You tell me I deserve better.
You say you’re tired of hurting me.
I get it.
But 20 hours ago you’re apologizing. Telling me we’re going to be okay.
Being the support system I need.
Me, always having your back.
You, picking out a house for us to move into.
20 hours ago, things aren’t great but you’re trying to make it better.
Present time, it would take “too much” effort for what I’m asking for, which, let’s be honest, isn’t a lot.
So are you lazy? Do you not care? Am I worth it? Do you not get it? Meaning, everything. Do you love me but just not enough to let go of your selfish and prideful ways? You’re inconsistent and I don’t know why, after destroying me, you decide to say. So. Which is it. What are you. Who are you.
And what the fuck am I doing here.