There is a fine line between longing to be near, and wanting to erase your entire existence from every crevice of my mind. I walk this line unwillingly. I am a novice with words. I have none of the ones I need tell you what you mean- none of the words that will make a difference.
I am missing you, and you are missing.
Tu me manques.
Yet in the least cryptic sense, you are still here. There are life-sized crumbs of you in my every day. Your scent, your smile, the songs I know that you like. Your favourite colour, your car – both of them. So many things to remember you by. So many you-sized-holes in my every day, with no you to fill them.
You began to me as an unexpected messenger, that life could indeed have a sense of stability and warmth. That I was not meerly a hopeless fool, posing as a brave warrior, unaffected by the swarm of uncertainty that cloaked my life. How easily you lifted it and came inside to welcome me with your constancy, gentleness, attentiveness. Your gift to me was all of the beautiful qualities you effortlessly displayed, that I could frame for the world to see, and that made me feel completely safe.
We rarely know the words on the page before we enter someone elses life – but what you scribe with your actions will determine the pages that follow. Three chapters of heaven – to be with you so easily put the world on mute. Little do you know how your presence shielded me from so much of the cold that had begun to freeze me, from the inside out. Suddenly I had faith that it was not my destiny to die to the wall of pain that had been slowly tumbling down on me, brick by brick.
…And like a blanket ripped from an unsuspecting heart it its deepest dreams – you tore yourself from me. The cold has flooded back in, the pain is raining down and there are no words that can be whispered nor screamed, to show you how I care and what you mean to me. I hopelessly sang my emotions for you into a dark and endless echo chamber, degraded by the sound of my own voice returned to me, in your absence.
This is my every day now. Wake up to remember that you are no longer, and that you somehow amounted to a series of fleeting moments in the face of my belief in you.
Never did I believe in anything so much. I believed in you more than the bruises on my soul.
And I hate to speak of you in the past tense,
You meant so much more to me than a mere memory.
But, I know the future is not where you want to be with me.