I did not survive.
Learning to live without you has been like asking a fish to learn how to breathe oxygen. I drown a bit each day. I gasp for air. I beg to be returned to the ocean, to be anywhere that might mean I’m with you.
Emotional affairs are funny things, because they sneak up on you. I’ve never heard anyone say they went out in search of one. But when two unhappy hearts meet and connect over the ways that they think they need to be fed, there is rarely any turning back.
When we’re together, it feels Christmas Day. All twinkly lights and gift giving, you know? Trevor came from a broken family so holidays were always difficult for him. That’s what I like about you. You’re…uncomplicated.
I can’t help but wonder if you still think about me, whether you eventually spoke up for me, and whether we will end up as strangers after everything we’ve shared.
It was as if an entire chapter of my story had been written by someone else and, like Sharpie on a dry erase board, I could never erase it.
I wondered: What if I’m actually NOT queer enough to claim the label?
I act like things come more easily than they do, and I usually avoid showing people the things I’m in the process of trying to master, because I have a lot of pride.
“Maybe when I wake up, my mind will have returned from wherever it went off to. Maybe it never left. Maybe it’s hiding, like how I’m hiding from pain. Maybe I’ll find it there.”
The truth is, you’re never going to change. You’re never going to care about me like I thought you did, like I thought you would. We spent two years together. Two years where I loved you and gave you my entire myself, only to realize that you didn’t care.