(no subject)
Things were so quiet when he left this morning, quiet and unresolved, even with the music that he left on for me. All I had was his world around me without him in it and two empty wine glasses-- vestiges of a failed confrontation.
I never choose the moments, they just find me when my voice is ready to be heard.
I wrote him a letter, barely filled in the blanks we spent so much time exchanging last night, wished that I could have made him happy.
wished for a balance and a rhythm and words-- the gifts I left buried in the closet for one reason or another.
I can't seem to wrap my head around it
still...
I never choose the moments, they just find me when my voice is ready to be heard.
I wrote him a letter, barely filled in the blanks we spent so much time exchanging last night, wished that I could have made him happy.
wished for a balance and a rhythm and words-- the gifts I left buried in the closet for one reason or another.
I can't seem to wrap my head around it
still...