This is an open letter of sorts, but if I am being real with myself, this is meant for your eyes and only you.
Let this be a medium in which everything I have to tell you is concrete and tangible, where the crutches of time won’t claim. Unlike my voice that will eventually blur away and end up being put away neatly into Pandora’s box where you keep things you’d much rather forget.
Let this be a means in which I try to win you back, and in another universe maybe I succeed. But in what seems to be the darkest timeline, we both know the effort required encompasses more than churning out a lousy paragraph. Maybe it’s not about winning you back, maybe it’s about meeting in equilibrium and we regain our balance.
Let this be an apology on top of the hundreds of apologies that I will assault you with. Know that one day I will figure it out, and find myself with two feet on the ground again.
But at this moment it feels like my head and my heart has been ricocheting back and forth between wanting back what is comfortable and embracing the brave new world of independence. Until I am level, until I am grounded.
Let this not be the means to an end. I wish I could navigate the world with the tenacity you do. I envy the way you are able to differentiate the difference between emotions and logic, how you know when to follow your head and when to follow your heart, the way you compartmentalize, the way you rationalize. The grit and the drive in which you approach all that is good in your eyes is unlike any I’ve ever had the privilege of being around.
Thank you for letting me fall into your orbit, for giving me the privilege of experiencing what true vulnerability was. For letting me experience the candor of a love that is unconditional, or should I say for letting me love you with everything I could possibly muster up.
Let me reiterate. You were everything tender and intimate, you were everything passionate and intense. You were a forest fire engulfing me; you were gentle embers warm on my skin.
Until we find our footsteps in sync again, my love, I’m walking away from ground zero.