Red wine and a worn leather notebook, it’s all I have when I sit here, without you.
You think I’m fine but I’m not. I’m not fine and I was going to tell you, but that wall, that damned wall between us came up again.
I want to tell you how I love you. How I don’t really know how I’m supposed to live without you if that time comes.
I want to tell you how it hurts me, hurts me to know I’m not the only one. I can tell in the way you touch me, it’s different, it’s
colder. I miss your warm touch and the way our eyes used to meet. They don’t meet anymore, did you know that?
Our hands touch but our mouths stay shut until something meaningless and stupid pops up. I need more than meaning less, cold words from you.
I’m so cold, I wish I could be cold on the outside, too. Gone, maybe. I wish you’d pull me out from inside this grave I’ve built for myself but I think
I might be trapped in this abyss forever.
I can’t fill up the empty spaces inside of you, but I can fill the empty space between the sheets.
I do every time, knowing the second you leave, I’ll be left with tears and a body that just won’t seem to clean.
The love won’t come off, my skin bleeding you through my pores, open wounds I don’t even think I want to close.
I think another, prettier version of me may be filling those spaces just like me, but
I’ve fallen in love with a man who has never understood the meaning of love.That is something I have to take responsibility for.
My love for you may never be returned, but here I am, in between the sheets like you know I’ll always be.
It’s worth it for the love you’re able to give in those moments. Small moments, but I’ll take any love I can get.
Because that’s all I’ve lived for. Love. Even if I’m the only one giving it.
Not realizing the memories I have could be skewed until they’re pointed out to me.
That first kiss, your soft touch. I didn’t say no but I didn’t say yes either. The blurred lines between what’s right and wrong, I’ve never been good at distinguishing the two.
In my memory it was a moment of closeness and love, we were one and I wanted it, I told myself, that’s what I wanted. My first kiss and first everything all at once, magical.
Reliving it in a therapists office, things look a little different. I was scared. I was scared when your hands started moving from writing love letters on my hips to circling lower, higher.My hands pathetically pulling at yours when they got a little too close to where they shouldn’t be. The darkness. The selfishness. It wasn’t for me. It wasn’t for us.
But I didn’t say no, did I? I didn’t say yes, but this one is on me because I never said the word “no.” I don’t think I wanted to, but I didn’t know anything about the ways men can use you and hurt you, the way they could love you and cherish you.
It shaped me in ways I wasn’t aware of. Basing my value on my body alone. That’s all I am, after all. A body to be used.
The cycle continues, because of you.
Have you noticed the way we never have anything to talk about? How the words we use to fill the empty space are just as empty,
a void filling a void, useless words. Why do we use them when they get us nowhere? Trying to force something to work when it’s clearly
already over. I wasn’t the one you were meant to find, and you weren’t the one I was meant to love. I can’t make you love me and that is something so difficult to learn.
Difficult to accept that maybe you’re with me just to fill that empty space, just for a little while.
I think I’ve mastered the art of missing you, somewhere in between
the 3am reruns of what I like to think we we were and
the countless mornings and afternoons recalling every line on your face,
the way your lips felt against mine that very first time,
the way your arms felt wrapped around me,
the way your eyes lit up when you smiled at me,
the way your hand felt against mine in your car as we drove to unknown destinations.
I like to think I know how to miss you right, but
it still shatters me to think of you, still hurts when I see her with you,
you look happier and in the times when I’m missing you, I find myself wondering why it couldn’t be me.
It’s not me you’re saying I love you to, it’s not me you’re falling asleep next to, waking up next to, living next to.
It’s not me you’re loving and I can’t help but wonder why I couldn’t be enough.
I don’t think I’m good at missing you at all.
Maybe I don’t have that courage,
the kind it takes to suffer with a smile, the kind it takes to keep up the facade of I’m okay,
I’m okay if you leave me. I’m okay if you can no longer handle the bite of my words despite the softness, the warmth of my hands,
my eyes. Eyes always on you, always looking for you, always loving you. Maybe I’m not
strong enough to continue the game of chess my mind plays with my heart, the irrationality of my mind winning every time.
Maybe I’m not brave enough to tell you the things I say to myself in my sleep, the things I say when I’m alone, when I’m working, when I do anything. Maybe
you wouldn’t understand. You can only understand the hurt and stress I unintentionally throw into your life.
Yes, I’m a mess. I’m a mess but I love you. And my love, I see it, I can see your patience has run clear out but please, please
don’t you dare leave me here with myself.
He feared the stars, so far away, too far to touch. “Why do you fear them?” she asked
“The stars remind me of everything I cannot achieve, the people I can’t meet. The places I can’t see.
They remind me of you, so bright and unknowable, too far to touch.”
“Why can’t you reach me?”
“How could I? Your heart is a wonder I’ll never get to feel, your body a lost land, and my god, your face, those eyes so bright, the depths of which I could never reach the bottom of…
How could I ever reach you? My hands are dirty from the earth below, from the moment I touched another. Never good enough, I could never find a part of me that could live up to what you are.”
The mirror she looked into showed her exactly what she knew. They both knew. But letting go of the insecurity was the hard part, and neither of them could tell the other that was what kept them apart.
I spread a disease, a darkness,
an anxiety creeps from my skin, they can feel it, they know to
stay away, I’m contagious. I’m
a virus, a parasite, caught so easily into the web of love and happiness anyone might extend to me, but once you let me in, I
can’t let go. I feed on it, live off of and breathe because of it. Even I fight it, you’re better off without me, I might even scream at you, but
I still hold on tight, knuckles white, nails digging in, don’t leave me, god please don’t leave, but
leave me alone.
i’m not sure what i had been expecting, you’ve moved on and
i was always still here waiting,
wanting. what had i expected when i told you
you’re bad for me, you’re killing me and
you’re happy. with her.
what had i expected, months and months of loving, of caring for
someone who doesn’t even give me a thought for a second of their day.
someone i spent countless nights aching for, my heart
caving in on itself, my body curling into itself to ease just some of the pain,
the pain of knowing i was just your in-between girl, knowing
she was waiting there for you, you were waiting for her to
come back to you.
should i have expected anything more than that cold, careless
“you do you, take care”?
Ever since you gave back the part of my heart that was yours, I’ve kept it locked in a box in the back of my closet,
I can still hear it beating, pulsing sometimes when it’s really quiet, when the darkness fills every corner of my being and sometimes
when I’m brave enough I’ll take it out, dust it off and feel it in my hands, still
beating for you. Still hurting, heart-wrenching pain fills me from head to toe, but I’m
still breathing for you. The pain is overwhelming but I can still feel the sunshine, the spring you put inside my heart, the forget-me-nots you gave me blooming, warming me.
I wish I could get rid of them, but I’ll always keep these feelings for you locked up tight in that box, only taking them out, only feeling
when I’m missing you.