First of all, the most inevitable statement of all, I miss you. I miss the energy of your presence, the inspiration of your words, the comfort of your smile. I miss all the big things and the all the little things even more. I miss having someone to talk to about anything and everything. Someone that would just so simply listen to me with such genuine interest.
I miss knowing you would always make our bed. I miss you getting mad at the way I cut tomatoes. I miss the quiet moments of our mornings and the instant happiness in your eyes every time you woke up. I miss the fucking pineapple above our bed. I miss the simplicity of our life then, how our only concern was red or white or how much time we had left to write an essay. I miss how I knew you would always be there. I miss the bestest friend I’ve ever had.
Your ghost is here with me. It’s here in this condo. It follows me onto the balcony where the smell of cigarettes lingers along with some of our best conversations. It follows me around the kitchen when I’m making breakfast, our most valued meal. It follows me to the shower, where our one of a kind humour thrived. It follows me to bed, where you closed the blinds the right way and touched me with exactly what I envisioned love to feel like. It follows me everywhere on this island. It follows me to the coastal trails we chased sunsets on, the long drives with the same music, the bars, the places we made our own. It follows me to my doorway where it echoes the one and only time you had whatever it took you to say, “I love you too” as you walked out the door and out of my life. Sometimes your ghost is a distant memory that makes me smile, sometimes your ghost reminds me that 247 KM really isn’t that far from me, yet you couldn’t be further.
It’s been 134 days since I’ve seen you. Since I’ve spoken to you. Since I had to listen to your car pull away from our world and enter your own. Sometimes I want to reach out to you. Just simply to see your name on my phone and know that you still exist. I want to see you, just to know if this is all in my head or not. I try to imagine how we would interact. How hard it would be to hide the mix of emotions from each other.
One part of me would want to just smile and hold you. Another would want to run away as fast as possible and try to continue to bury the weight of this pain. I know this silence is something I wanted and one part of me appreciates you for respecting that. Another part wonders what you would say if I was standing right in front of you. If you would shatter into a state of vulnerability or if you would hold your pride and act like I’m an old friend. Part of me wonders how you think of me and our relationship. How it’s effected you not having me. And how you would interpret my time without you.
At first I was strong. I held my head up high and put all of my energy into working and released any emotions through writing. Then I became weaker. I drank everything away until I could feel nothing. But when that wasn’t enough to fill the void, I let someone else into my life. Someone so innocent and so sweet, that was instantly captivated by me. Someone who looks at me, touches me, and treats me and appreciates me like I’m the best thing to ever happen to him. Someone I will never feel the same about. He’s simply my attention source and validation to my broken heart. Someone who makes me feel good enough to stay for. I wish I had the emotional capacity to feel the same way about him. But you’re occupying that space and I know you aren’t going anywhere soon. I know I should end this and simply be alone until I heal and I’m sure it will fade out on its own, just like most of my future relationships will. I know I’m going to rush in and out of relationships only to conclude they all mean nothing but distractions.
It will always be you. I know this process has to happen naturally. I know it’s going to take time for the outcome, one way or the other. I know it’s going to be filled with pain.
It scares me to think we might never talk again. That neither one of us will have the courage to break the silence. I’d like to think that the reason we’ve remained out of touch is because we both care too much and truly have no idea how to interact with each other. I’d like to think we will get past that one day. That we will find a way to reconnect what’s already connected and to move forward in peace, either solely or together.
If I could let you know one thing right now, it would be that you are always on my mind and that you aren’t going anywhere. I hope Whistler is as amazing as you envisioned it would be. I hope your mom is doing okay. And I hope that your breakfast tastes just as good without me. I hope this silence is helping you as much as it’s helping me and I hope that you find the clarity you needed to. I hope you can read this one day and understand each word and turn to me and kiss me, and then pour me another glass of wine. Because I probably need it if you’re reading this and back in my life.