It's All Fiction, Really.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

It’s All Fiction, Really.

I cannot remember the exact moment you changed. It was a collection of instants so dense that they became years and that purple stain on your lips became permanent, the color something we anticipated, knew, and hated.

I can remember that first moment moment I disappointed you because I could not keep my mouth shut. And those arguments have outnumbered the marks in the basement that measured our growth as children.

Before I left, you said again that I was cold, and mean, and hard. Without feeling.

I am cold, but not unforgiving. Yes, it’s hard for me to look you in the eye. But I am full of feeling, and if there were none, I would not still be here.

I still want to scream at you on a freezing cold beach and dunk your head in the frigid ocean. I want you to see and believe that I would do anything for this to stop. I would take that trip with you, I would find that road back, but you…you refuse to do so, and so I am here, knowing I have lost the most fundamental relationship one can have.

I turn 26 next month and I am 3,000 miles away and they say… they say I must move on. I will, but I am still wishing you will turn around and come back to us.

I still need you.