I have a romantic idea of how a relationship should start. I get in my own way. I put people on pedestals. I take the realness out of it. Learning I can’t control things is one the harder lessons for me to comprehend. The fear of the situation going wrong, combined with me doing everything in my power to make it go right is actually the problem. I shouldn’t feel the need to express every feeling I’m thinking. I should leave a little to the imagination. Whatever. Instead, I’m going to pour myself a glass of whiskey and do the opposite.
Maybe one day I’ll be able to put it into better words, but I think you’re amazing. In a lot of ways, I can’t give you tangible reasons. It’s almost metaphoric. I see stars sparkling in your eyes. Really. When you’re happy they’re there, and sometimes they sparkle just for me. You’ve felt like home since I’ve known you. There’s something in the two of us that is part of each other. What that means, I don’t know, but it means we’re close. You bring out the talent that is hidden in me. I want to take care of you. Not just that I don’t mind, I actually want to. When you need help, I want to be there to take care of you. I wouldn’t just do it, I’d love to do it. I’d move a mountain if you asked me to. I love to see you happy, I love to see you thrive. I love seeing you get to where you want to be, and I think you’re getting there. You will get there. You’ll be there soon. I can’t wait to see it.
The first time I knew for sure you were a part of me we were in my car. We were driving towards our city lights and I knew, in that moment, I could spend the rest of my life with you. We’d keep driving, into the wide open countryside. We’d chase mountains and stars together. Travel everywhere, no stone left unturned, hand in hand. Caged birds don’t sing a song as sweet as the free, and we were two souls that were meant to soar. I wanted to come along for your flight, because I like your hand in mine.
The reality is I’m weighed down. I carry you around like a stone. As much love as you’ve made me feel, you’ve also brought on overwhelming amounts of pain. Shit, I need to let you know how alone you can make me feel. How desperate you can make me feel, ￼like I’ve been loosened off a whipping post and left. I’m sure there are greater tragedies in the world, but darling you can make me feel like mud. It’s not through viciousness, but blind ignorance that you continuously crush me. For someone who makes the sun in my heart rise and fall, you’re often stealing my shine.
You have me lying awake, sleepless almost every night. I sit on cliffs and ledges by the ocean and ask the universe to finally place the loyalty in your heart and direct it at me. You have me praying to a god everyday that I’m not even sure I believe in anymore, but I have to believe there is something in this world that can relieve me from the pain. Grant me what I want most in this world. What I think I deserve. There isn’t a friend with the words to soothe the pain, there doesn’t seem to be a human that can numb it.
Anyway, what good is numbing? It only hurts worse to feel it again. You’re wine and poison. I can’t underestimate how susceptible I am to illusions, but also can’t understate how much it hurts to mourn a love I’m not sure I ever really had.
I’ll keep looking for that face that will shine with me, though it feels like nothing will ever matter if you’re not there. I have to face reality though. All of the pretty things I’ve written you, you’ve probably lost anyway. Like any person worth their salt, I’m filled with as much self-loathing as I am certain there is something great in me that is going to show itself. I wish you were there for it. I don’t know exactly what is wrong with me, but apparently you see it. I’m sure I’ll hit my low, stumble on another flower, and it will blossom with me. I’m just not sure why that flower can’t be you.
This has all been a bittersweet symphony. I feel deeply that this universe would burst into symphonic colors, bold, bright, and beautiful if you could take a step back and see what I see. I can imagine a life with you. I lay awake at night, and often wake up, wishing I was holding you. I can’t say honestly that I didn’t wish this would be the impetus that makes you soften, that when I turn my back you tug on my arm and pull me back around. Forever. Somewhere in me will always be a love for you, whether it’s thriving, or curled up wounded in a ball. You’ve really hurt me though. Now I’m left with words, a lonely pillow, and an empty glass of whiskey. If only babe…