As this is…
I finally realized that I like myself so much more whenever you’re nowhere in sight. Whenever you’re not by my side. Whenever you’re on your way out.
Why is it that bad things all happen at the same time in my life?
Honesty is a failure in the most passionate of relationships. I saw her walking back and forth across the room. Her footing giving out below her hips while they continued swaying from the lack of oxygen and too many stimulants.
I’ve moved so many times I forgot where I came from. Wyoming? A Dakota? Little Rock? Omaha? No place feeling okay unless I’m with you. It’s a sickening feeling to glare down at our daughter and tell her that you’ll be back soon. And all she wants to do is grasp you. All I can do is tell her that you went away one afternoon.
If I could I would leave her on the side of the road in the middle of middle America. She would forget my name and the place she was born. I can’t handle the thought of not looking her in the eyes. They light a fire inside of me. Those eyes look just like yours. Less red, of course. She doesn’t need all of the drugs you’ve been latching on to for sixteen years.
She hardly speaks these days. She sits quietly in whatever hotel room we are in at the moment. She pulls up a chair in front of the east walls. She stares at them counting the faults in the paint. She told me once that we should go east. She said you liked the heat.
It was so long ago that I saw you that I’m afraid I would’t know it was you if you passed by us. I would know your smell, though.
I find that many times I found myself running from progress. I now know that in those times it wasn’t progress for the better it was progress for the sake of change. Change can be both good and bad. Over the past year I’ve learned that even if it is difficult there is a lesson to be learned. Mistakes have been made. I have been seriously wounded. It didn’t stop me then and it won’t stop me now. I’m looking forward to a bright future. A future that is more whole.
Going home is the right thing to do.
With or without you. Jul 11
I love myself.
With that being said, I’m finished.
This life is not for me.
I will do better.
I will be stronger.
I will try harder.
I will fail.
I will pick myself back up again.
I am the only person I can rely on. Jun 30
I never wanted something as bad as I want you.
It’s the rain pouring down my face. It’s the sun shining through the clouds. It’s the bittersweet honesty you give me. It’s life and death. It’s a crisp and cold winter’s day.
Alaska, I miss you.
Don’t let me forget you. May 22
"Mockingbirds don’t do one thing except make music for us to enjoy. They don’t eat up people’s gardens, don’t nest in corn cribs, they don’t do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That’s why it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird."
Words never rang so true.
I can’t believe this. I’m sick. I just threw up. I cannot believe this. Seriously? Really? I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I loved you. I can’t.
How in the world is this even possible?
It’s a nightmare. It has to be.
I’m fucking revolted.
Someone just take me out of my misery. Someone just shake me violently until I awake from this terror. You have got to be out of your mind. You have got to be long fucking gone.
I’m a mess.
Over you. May 21
I called you one night when I was weary. That night changed everything.
You were laying in bed next to her. You couldn’t pick up the phone. You sent me a text instead.
I’ve become her again. Crawling through your relationship. Sliding through your memories and into her sheets. She can feel me coming up and breathing down your neck but she ignores it. She is blissfully and ignorantly sleeping off the feeling.
You said when? And I said now. You said okay. Here we are. We are nowhere. But it’s right now.
I’ll take a transfer. They’ll transfer me out of town. She’ll never see it coming. She’ll never know until I tell her I’m leaving her. And I will. I’ll leave this town but only for you. I’ll leave this town and we can start anew.
I’m waiting. Looking at my watch. I tried to stop it. Too late.
You’re there in front of me. Bags packed and one white flower by your side.
How did you plan on doing it?
Did you want to shove pills down your throat? Or slice up your wrists? Electrocution? A hanging, perhaps?
And when did it become alright to exclude me? When did everything become so twined? I thought you knew me. I thought you knew I wouldn’t leave you there. Cold or alone. Never.
Why didn’t you tell me? I would have just packed up my bags and ran toward you. I would have booked it on the interstate and found a way to be there faster than light.
What did I do? Why am I turning this around on myself?
Two months in stone cold silence. I can’t believe that you would even imagine doing such a thing.
I love you.
I mean it.
I don’t think you thought I did, but I did. And I do. And I will. And and.
For not being there enough. For not holding you enough. For not being trustworthy enough. For you not being able to share. For you not being able to just release everything. The worries. The stresses. The time.
The time is what fucks me up. I spent my days and nights counting. Memorizing.
I’ve written so many damned poems about you. This is the first one that feels like it’s even close to encompassing the type of emotions I am feeling right now. I wish I knew before.
"You were nothing but kind to me. Nothing but the best you could be. Nothing but help. … Just know that I never forgot about you. … I certainly miss you. … I feel like a fucking monster because of what I did to you. … I am sorry you fell for a nutcase, a fucked up kid."
I’m so stupid for being so head over heels when you’re screws are all loose.
I’m not trying to push you down. I’m happy you got out. I’m happy you escaped that. I’m happy that you didn’t do what you wanted to do. I can’t believe it took so long for you to tell me. I want to yell at you. Scream out at the top of my lungs. Rip my skin off and watch it bleed. I want the cold air to shock my body back into reality and allow me to be free. Because this is not what I signed up for. This is not how it’s supposed to be when you fall in love. This is not what love is.
Or is it?