November 16th, 2017 § 0 comments


I will just keep writing to you.

I am still in love with you. The only thing that’s changed is that we are no longer together. And yet, I still feel like we are in this together. You tell me you love me. You need space because you want to talk to me constantly. I read about love and I think only of you. I am in love with you. My feelings will change, I’m sure, but I only see this love going beneath the surface. I can push it down perhaps until it is buried, closed behind a door. All the doors in this house are open and now I must shut each one, the wind pushing against it.

It’s quiet here and my heart is racing. I am smoking too much, remembering you too much. You’d think my brain would try to lessen the pain but it seems to have spilled out every memory in vivid detail. The day we listened to Mariah Carey and you said you finally understand how two people can stay in love when they’re not together. So you want to be free. So I let you fly. I begged you to stay.

But inevitably:

Our love will never die.

There is this idea that I could play you this song and you’d come back. You would kiss me and say you made a mistake. I hunger for that kiss. I feel so close to being in your arms. It will linger on.

For a moment in time. And it seemed everlasting.

My bones say that this is not the end of our story. I look toward the future and I see my love for you continuing on, it will quiet and secret itself. Maybe you will love me less and less. Or maybe your love for me will become quieter and secret too.

We’ve been here before, in a way. And we were still in love.

If you could leave, that might help. If you could move away I would cry and cry and cry. But I would move on. How am I supposed to move on?

I still feel our story is not over.

I could show up at your door and tell you I will be in love with you, waiting for you to come back. I will live my life and I will always be waiting. I look toward the future and I will always be waiting for you. I look toward the future and I see that this is my life, perhaps for months, for years.

If you’re determined to leave, I won’t stand in your way.

But inevitably.

You’ll always be.


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