(no subject)
What happened in 2009 was a series of unexplainable events -- a breakdown, a heart being a heart, and summer months, autumn spent getting the poison and the poisoners out of my system. And I wonder if you'll read this, somehow, still.
There are a lot of letters I would like to send.
One to you, and tell you that I'm sorry, but I don't mean it. I got so many looks that day screaming into the phone. My fingers could not form words. And the missing is there, sometimes, in that space where I used to hang upside down on my bed with the miles between pressed into my ear. But it stays in limbo and cold when I remember exactly how honesty works. And if I wasn't a good person to you, I don't know who will be. Let's see if anyone sticks around in a year. Your greatest fears are more than just fears, they're possibilities. You bring this on yourself, playing into patterns because you're too scared. I am someone who always realizes how wonderful I have it, how nice things are -- you are the queen of complaints, the master of not-good-enough, the empress of always being right even when you're wrong. You never realize what you have, even when it's gone and it's sad that you can't miss the good things in your life because you're so insecure about the bad.
One to you, a small sheet of paper that says please leave me alone. Please. This is the last time I'll ask. I don't want to be miserable anymore. I don't want my heart in your iron grip, the sensation of squeezing leaving me breathless in the bad way. I loosened the screws and drifted away and for that I'm glad. Your wake isn't something I want to swim in. I almost drowned.
One to you, a real apology. I miss you.
One to you, to say that things aren't the same now with you gone, and it gets me every time, every year, every December. I'd give the mountains and the sea just to have you back.
One to you, to ask why not. Why can't you let it go, why can't you compromise. I don't even want to see you again but I want you to not hate me and make things easier.
And one to you, to tell you that I am glad for all the choices I made that led to you. Because this happened and not something else, it's the only thing that can exist. I would not go back and change one thing, even the bad mistakes, if it meant that we wouldn't be here right now. Coasting on waves and sending my thoughts out to you every chance I have. Talking to you in my head when I'm not talking to you for real. Healing with your help, minimizing all the scars others left. It's nice to be able to tell those stories and have you understand. It's nice to drift off into sleep and dreamworlds and know that when I wake up you're waiting for me. That the empty space between my fingers is there for you to fill. I am just waiting, but I've got your voice and your words and your lovely, lovely face to keep me company through the days until you get here. And I will wait as long as it takes. And I know you'll read this skeleton of a letter and you'll know that I mean every word. Please stay. Please, please stay and be mine.
There are a lot of letters I would like to send.
One to you, and tell you that I'm sorry, but I don't mean it. I got so many looks that day screaming into the phone. My fingers could not form words. And the missing is there, sometimes, in that space where I used to hang upside down on my bed with the miles between pressed into my ear. But it stays in limbo and cold when I remember exactly how honesty works. And if I wasn't a good person to you, I don't know who will be. Let's see if anyone sticks around in a year. Your greatest fears are more than just fears, they're possibilities. You bring this on yourself, playing into patterns because you're too scared. I am someone who always realizes how wonderful I have it, how nice things are -- you are the queen of complaints, the master of not-good-enough, the empress of always being right even when you're wrong. You never realize what you have, even when it's gone and it's sad that you can't miss the good things in your life because you're so insecure about the bad.
One to you, a small sheet of paper that says please leave me alone. Please. This is the last time I'll ask. I don't want to be miserable anymore. I don't want my heart in your iron grip, the sensation of squeezing leaving me breathless in the bad way. I loosened the screws and drifted away and for that I'm glad. Your wake isn't something I want to swim in. I almost drowned.
One to you, a real apology. I miss you.
One to you, to say that things aren't the same now with you gone, and it gets me every time, every year, every December. I'd give the mountains and the sea just to have you back.
One to you, to ask why not. Why can't you let it go, why can't you compromise. I don't even want to see you again but I want you to not hate me and make things easier.
And one to you, to tell you that I am glad for all the choices I made that led to you. Because this happened and not something else, it's the only thing that can exist. I would not go back and change one thing, even the bad mistakes, if it meant that we wouldn't be here right now. Coasting on waves and sending my thoughts out to you every chance I have. Talking to you in my head when I'm not talking to you for real. Healing with your help, minimizing all the scars others left. It's nice to be able to tell those stories and have you understand. It's nice to drift off into sleep and dreamworlds and know that when I wake up you're waiting for me. That the empty space between my fingers is there for you to fill. I am just waiting, but I've got your voice and your words and your lovely, lovely face to keep me company through the days until you get here. And I will wait as long as it takes. And I know you'll read this skeleton of a letter and you'll know that I mean every word. Please stay. Please, please stay and be mine.