(no subject)
So I guess I found out that I need to let go. And I suppose that is a good thing. I mean leaving behind situations that were making me unhappy leaves more time and energy for those that do make me happy, right? I keep telling myself these things and it's just not helping. I'm hesitant to use the word 'love' because it's so potent yet undefined, and yet that is precisely what I mean to express- I did, do?, love him. I love him enough that having to back away and watch him in pain, miserable and untouchable is a little too much to bear. Maybe I'm being naive. Maybe he just doesn't care and doesn't want to. Maybe I'm getting a bit old for these romantic melodramatic notions of the world- but just maybe, there is still some passion and some wonder to be genuinely found here. I want to be okay again and be able to embrace life without his memory in my tear stained cheeks, in a light in a window, in sweet music through the walls, or the memory of a gentle voice on the phone- and yet I wouldn't trade these pangs, these triggers of all those pure and lovely moments we shared, if only briefly, for anything in the world. Those memories, that I would not profane by committing them to paper, will last, sustain me, revive my hope when it is gone, long after the tears have tried and memory is old and faded. Thank you- even if your ears never hear it- thank you for reminding me that I can love.