journal · letter · prose

separate ways

My Dear,

I woke up and realized how I’d wasted my young years. Looked back – farther even than you – for the first time in a long time. Gazed upon what I’d built: pixelated memories formed from the binary of generations before me. How poignantly pathetic. And I recall, not for the first time, but for the first time with new eyes; not for the last time, but for the last time as that person, as I say my farewells, although a part of me will always be her. Forever young, preserved both within and without. Just as you have been within and are now without me, just as many others before and after our time — those golden years of despair, when the future was still a mystery unfolding itself before me. That we should part ways and live, that I will grow old and die — things I never expected, never intended. So many left behind, forgotten in the time that I never noticed was moving forward, no matter how I spent it, or didn’t. So many bridges burnt to ashes in the whirlwind of my jejunity. Marking forward movement by the past — inert. And so I have been, until now. Resting with your ghost in the shadows, as you withdrew with time. And now here we are, here we go —

 

Yours,

letter · poetry

You, You, You

If I had a reason
to live
to breathe
it would be to love you.
To give you this heart
that would be lifeless
without you.
I was nothing more
than a shell of skin
and bone
until I met you,
and then I knew,
if there was a purpose
for every ending,
if there was a reason
for each broken heart
and tear,
if there was a hope
for something better,
or a wish
for something new,
I found it all in you.
And each mistake
and every heartache
has led me here
to you,
and I would live them all
a thousand times,
again,
if every time
I was so lucky
as to know you,
as to love you,
in the end.

letter · new years resolution

darkness

Dear Heart,

Dark places, my love; I’d been living in dark spaces where the wounds never ceased to bleed, seeking out the promises the light had failed to deliver. Aching to be delivered from the misery. Desperate for something – anything – to save me. And, caught up the recklessness of finding relief, I ignored the reality before me: this would cause nothing but harm. Yet I persisted. I sought out what I knew with every part and parcel of my being was wrong — I longed for, no, I lusted after my own destruction; I fell right into him in depraved abandon and I enjoyed every moment with guilty pleasure. Oh, it was sick, darling; it was entirely perverse and twisted. And all of this… this is who I am. Can you accept that?

 

Yours,

letter · new years resolution

felicity

Dear Heart,

I am mesmerized by your brilliance: your precious flaws, your beautiful feelings. Your gentle heart — your support, your healing. And although the words sound silly, I cannot help but say how extraordinary you are to me. How knowing you is transforming me into someone new. How your presence could light up a thousand rooms. You say you are all out for me, well honey, I am all out for you, too. And I could not have been more lucky than I was on the day that I met you.

 

Yours,

letter · new years resolution

riddles

X,

I’m no theorist, no therapist. Couldn’t tell you what the trouble was, or where it started. How it happened. These are all good questions, but they’re like a broken record, stuck on repeat, in my head. All these building blocks that don’t match up, and you keep asking why, you wonder how it’s so. Well, all I know for certain is how much I don’t know. And that these riddles of the mind can wear you down to your very bones —

They’re almost always better left alone.

 

Yours,

letter · new years resolution

alive

X,

We are alive and happy with breath. Each heartbeat pulsing through our veins into our bones, our soul. Liquid gold. Thick, like honey. Soft, like fresh dew on the morning leaves, that glistening of the frost. Our warm breath on the air, marking our individual presence in a world shaped by so many lives — so much life. We are the one with world and the world lies within us. We are replete, intoxicated with desire. And so very alive. Wondrously, dangerously alive.

 

Yours,