Day 90

I thought I could be brave and let go. I lied. I cannot. I don’t know if I can ever let you go.

Day 88

My heart, starved in the coldest desert, cries feebly, a cry pulverized by a wall of bone white sand. Forgiveness, sits on my tongue ~ a frozen thunder. A frozen thunder which, when it hits the air, roars and then shatters. And I have sliced my foot on the shrapnel that’s scattered itself upon the ground around me. The fire in your eyes has spread, so much so that I begin to fear that frightening demon which lives inside you. I must never forget. I must ever remind myself of your monstrousness, lest I find myself drawn into your web. Lest I find myself falling for you, again, and again.

Day 85

You are a sad man.

Day 83

Soon it will be three years since I left you. Please return my computer.

Day 82

I remember. I will never forget. Naively, I hope for metamorphosis.

Day 81

We can only find truth in the darkness of the mind. It’s frightening. And it hurts.

Day 80

The more tenacious our love, the blinder that love becomes. That explains a great deal.

Day 79

I shall give you a kiss on the brow when you are dead. I wonder, shall you feel it?

Breathe

I loved to watch you, watch you so intently that you told me to stop or my eyes would wear out. Still, I found myself unable to remove you from my gaze. I felt so insecure, so unsure about your presence, as though you would leave at less than a moment’s notice. So I watched you, to convince myself of your real-ness, and to stock up on mental images of you, for when you finally removed yourself from me.

Loving you seemed like some desperate attempt to breathe life, to live out loud. In those early days, I felt as though I would die if I could not make it work with you. Getting down on my knees, begging you to stay, felt like gasping for air, gasping for my next breath. How can the presence of one man feel so vital to my life? I sinned exquisitely to love you, to make myself yours. Can you see the corpses that we created in the wake of our passionate destruction of each other?

Now that you’ve become only a fleeting and bleeding dream, I no longer fear the dark. You cannot hurt me. I cannot hurt me. And so, I turn off the light, because I no longer need to see my thoughts. I can feel them on my skin, light as the casings of dandelion seeds.

Day 78

It’s often said that we’re only as sick as our secrets. You have so many dark secrets. And so, you’re sicker than even I can imagine.

Day 77

How could you convince yourself that what you present to people seems real to them? I wish for you a grand metamorphosis. Ah, but wishing doesn’t make it so, does it?

Day 76

My heart no longer shatters in to a million pieces when I think of you.

Day 75

The lid to hell opened, and suddenly, you appeared. You looked so beautiful, because that’s how everything and everyone looks like in hell ~ beautiful. In an instant I scooped up your shivering heart and pressed it against my lips. Your unspoken words found a place in my heart, a place that had been waiting all this time, just for you. No sooner had you entered my life and my heart, you left. Without word, without warning. You left, leaving in your wake all of your empty promises clinging to me, like a clump of unwarmed snow in the dim corner of an unknown garden.

Day 74

A dear friend of mine told me today that the most treacherous among us often have a great deal of charm and incredible physical beauty. And so it is with you, dangerous angel.

Day 73

You seem so remote to me, right now, in this moment. So very alien.

Day 72

I have these fleeting moments when you seem beautiful, pure, devoted. I have these fleeting moments when, in my mind’s eye, you do not seem like yourself, but instead, a fantasy, that fantastic figure I created and fell to love. Like a fallen angel, who gives up her wings and all their enchantment, I fell so very fast and hard for you, a bad medicine, a dark fantasy. I have these fleeting moments, but that’s all they are ~ fleeting.

Day 71

You don’t have the power to hurt me anymore.

Day 70

Love is louder than your rage.

Day 68

I will not set that trainwreck back on the track. Simply will not.

Day 67

Loving you nearly annihilated me.

Day 65

So many months have passed since your last contact. I have long given up ringing your number, leaving you voice message or text-ing you, in hopes of a response. It’s as though you have died, though I know you have not. Hiding … you play this game of hiding. In my grief for you, I came to see you, not as that supernal creature into which I made you, not as that figure I exhalted, but as a mere human ~ a man. Flawed, wounded, and perhaps incapable of knowing truly what love is. How can this be? I have asked myself so many times. It just is.

Each time you popped back into my life, I had just begun to face life without you, just begun to cast you away from my heart. I loved you so deeply and desperately that when you tore yourself away from, you also tore up pieces of my heart. How many wounds can one person have, from the mere act of loving another? Loving someone amounts to war against oneself. Also excruciating lessons learned. I have learned more how to be me, just me ~ not defined by my relationship to you or anyone else.

I know you will re-appear in our lives. And when that happens I shall want to run away from you.

Day 64

Lately, I find myself reflecting upon the fact that you would have killed me, had I chosen to stay with you rather than leave the country. Yes, I had to leave the country to escape you. I believed, so desperately, that home existed in you. Until you frightened me, almost to death. Then, and only then, did I fling myself back into the arms of my homeland, and back into the aching embrace of your brother. Aching? Yes, aching, for me, his very own prodigal wife.
I find it so profound that you would have taken my life, and so I feel I must regurgitate this thought. I think the taste of it shall never grow stale ~ it shall ever remain bitter.

Day 61

Slowly, oh so slowly, I’ve begun shedding you, in the same way a snake sheds her skin. You rarely appear in my dreams. That’s a good thing.

Day 60

I remember the way I felt 3 years ago, virutally destoryed and wanting to die. You really had me believing that I was at fault, it was all my fault. What’s sad is the fact that you actually convinced yourself it would be my fault if you, in your rage, succeeded in killing me. WTF?