I didn’t want to write, I wanted to keep everything to myself, but it feels like I am choking on my own blood. I feel suffocated yet at the same time incredibly empty. I miss him more than anything in this world. The last few months have been difficult. I miss him so much at times my hands go numb, I lie in bed staring at the ceiling, livid. How could I have done this to myself? I find him in everything I do. I still haven’t come to terms with the fact that the memory of him is as close as I will come to kissing him again. I have been avoiding putting theoretical pen to paper, to let everything flow and bleed through my fingertips. It hurts too much. Writing is the reflection I have been trying to avoid. I don’t want to hurt anymore but avoidance isn’t doing much to mend my broken heart. Losing him was supposed to be impossible. I feel like a fraud calling it a loss when we willingly forfeited for reasons we felt where more pressing than continuing to find a way.
I am trying my hardest to keep my pride at bay, to remain thankful and less resentful of what this situation has done to my heart. But I can’t, it has been months now and my heart sinks at any given time. I could be doing the most mundane things and out of nowhere, there he is again. I did everything you’re supposed to do when you’re trying to be a better person. I blocked any means of communication because I couldn’t help but check back every free moment of every day. I was hanging on to the hope of an ellipses in time. I was tormenting myself with the possibility of his return rather than being at peace with the fact that he shouldn’t. I didn’t do it to be spiteful, I just started to feel pathetic to need him to the point of wanting to destroy anyone’s life for my own happiness. Especially after being treated so pedestrian, so nonchalant. I tried all the things you do to move forward. Attempted to inundate my mind with all the negatives to try to replace the positive memories, the feel-good moments that pulled me deeper in love with the man that I had to let go of for his own good. Somehow, I can’t pull him away from my heart and it is excruciating. Pain has become my new normal. He consumed any rationality I had and now my every thought is flooded with those moments in his embrace. I miss his voice and the calmness that came over me anytime I heard it. His pictures. . .our words are all there keeping record of an unpublished story. One that no matter how many times I attempt to rewrite will never have the proper ending. I don’t know how to get rid of the us we created, in great part because I’m not there yet, it feels too final. He isn’t this thing I’m hoarding, he became an intricate part of my heartbeat, so much so that it feels impossible to change its rhythm.
I was going through my closet yesterday when I came across my travel bag. I thought it was empty, but when I tossed it on the chair an opened roll of berry flavored Tums fell to the ground. As soon as I saw what hit the floor my heart felt like it was split through the middle. I bought it in the lobby of the hotel since I knew he was prone to get heartburn. He held that small item which carries no significance to anyone but me. He unraveled that package just like every part of me. I’m undone. That small thing reminded me of the moments we spent laughing being silly. I remember I had my head on his chest when suddenly I started to smell some sort of candy, I lifted my head and surveyed the room before I realized the smell of berries was coming from his lips. I would give anything in the world to be back in that moment frozen in time. Living in a moment I took for granted, and now a memory that I’ll replay in my mind forever. It is one of those memories that remains a vehicle of torture every time I think of him. I just can’t make sense of how life can be this cruel. Our worlds collided, and we were able to look through the windows of a life worth having. We played with the idea of our perfect world and even though it was not sustainable, we tasted a life far different from the one we are destined to live apart. I want to see his face and know he is okay but as I type that I feel the sharp pain you feel when you’ve pricked your fingertip with a needle, it’s an instant inevitable pain knowing that I will never see him again.
I did it all for the maybe, for the possibility that the us we held so close could somehow become real if we wanted it bad enough. I thought in my wildest imaginations that life would sort itself out and the details for us would be miraculously tied together. How do you cure the hopeful heart of an impossibility? How do I explain it to my heart that no matter how it’s spun, the outcome was always going to be the same? How do I let go for my own wellbeing when flashbacks of the times we had are what is keeping me pulled together? How do I stop mourning the living and accept that our forever has ceased to exist?
If that was forever, forever was not enough. I miss my best friend, my everything.