Some nights are harder than others.
I will go days where the little pop up reminder of your existence happens in my brain and instead of fixating on how unfair it is that I can’t see you, touch you, tell you everything… my heart instead skips a beat and tucks you back in unfollow the next random reminder.
Somewhere you are out there living, breathing, feeling and I know this is true because there you are just outside of the photos in my mind. Just out of view. You’re tangible and I can feel you like when you know someone has entered a room but you can’t see them just yet.
I’m not in your plans and I hate that for me, you, us. You’re not in mine anymore either. But… knowing there’s always that slight opportunity that you could one day wake up, say “fuck it” and head towards me is enough to give me one little glimmer of hope.
We’ve both travelled hundreds and thousands of miles to get that one last embrace, that final word. You have and you know I will. I’d choose you again and again and again. I’d continue to choose you and we could find a way to make the distance work in both our favors.
He said you leave in a few weeks, and I finally told him that I will forever check in on you through him. I’m not sorry. I have zero regrets. The pit in my stomach is the conversation I know he’s having with you right now. The one I didn’t want but was probably inevitable. It’s either a logical warning that I’m never going away or an argument as to why you’re too thick skulled to have gotten scared of what we stirred up in both of us.
I don’t regret telling him.
This is night two of my brain speeding past my second wind on melatonin, third wind on a glass of wine and fourth wind during meditation. I want to stop seeing you in my mind if nothing is ever going to proceed forward. I don’t want the torture. I want to open the door to leave and see you on the other side. I want to relax my body into you and just breathe.
