You Are My Worst And Hardest Goodbye

Kyle Broad

The only goodbye that’s ever been difficult. This may be the closest to goodbye I’ll ever get.

Effacing you from my mind may not ever happen when the roots of hope had grasped so deep into my dreams. And how hopeful I was. The moment nostalgia touches your body, you only message me to ask for something. Something so utterly banal and meaningless. As if I were Siri. Some animated voice that reminded you of a past you no longer cared about. You wanted something. Not me.

Instead, the message should have read, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I broke your heart. I’m sorry this still hurts. You never deserved that. I fell in love too fast and too hard that I got scared. You’re the one who’s better than me. I really love you, but I’m just too scared of all this. I’m sorry.

You weren’t strong enough for us. For the real thing.

Instead, you said – I can never love you. I can’t be with you. You’re too dependent, overbearing. When autonomy and self-confidence are my main personality traits, you gave me lies as reasons instead of the truth for peace of mind. So your words, naturally, clawed at my insides.

How can you live with yourself when the boy you love doesn’t want you? Your dream doesn’t want to be chased by you.

Months go by. You don’t want me. But, you miss talking. Miss joking with my mouth and mind. Miss this person you remembered inside this body.

Weeks go by. You looked at that laptop camera and told me you wanted me. Wanted this body of mine. But I thought you could never love me? I thought you didn’t want to hold these hips between your hands? Making my self-worth fall like sand, slipping between your fingers that couldn’t hold up my heart for more than a second. Despite that, I still chose to plant my life onto your fingertips.

Two years go by. In anticipation, of flying across the world, of being for the one and only time in this life in the same city as you, my mind built thorny dreams around my heart. Cutting down those lofty dreams meant being brutally damaged in the process.

You’ve got a lover now. How could my mind, heart, soul and body match up to the reality that you were hers. I trained. Spoke. Sang. Danced. Touched. Breathed. Laughed and Cried. I loved and loved and loved, praying for the world to love me back so that you might love me again. So I could finally put a crown onto my head before I fell asleep each night.

I can’t touch the reality. Can’t bring myself across this invisible membrane between the memory of you loving me and the way things actually are. I still love you. If I’m here, and you won’t even meet me, how can I come to terms with all of this?

If this isn’t love then why does my body ache for you and my heart just want to be wrapped up in all of you? I can’t erase the magic of your eyes on me, your mouth on mine. The image of you is so intoxicating I’d let myself drown in you.

Maybe it’s best we don’t meet. Maybe it’s best that you never lay your eyes on this body or listen to this mind again because it would fall from my lips like rain off a flower petal.

I love you.

You’ve been running across my mind for so long I forgot which way was up or down. I don’t know what to feel anymore.

Maybe all I can hope for is to be a single petal floating in the wind – hoping to land on a kind stranger’s hand that lets me stay there for a while until we’re both ready to let go, as equals. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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