giovedì 24 novembre 2011

Open Letter To A Past Lover

Remember how we used to tell each other how much important we were? And i used and refined all my skills at rewording that same concept a million times. I loved to surprise you with new ways to tell you that i loved you. I loved the expression on your face or the way your voice changed when you heard me say it.

There was always something to your voice that made me feel that things were gonna be alright. Even when it was late at night and the voices in my head were having a party, your voice, whether it was on the phone, on some video i found out or call i saved, was stronger than any picture. You could be saying anything, even talking about the weather and suddenly the voices became quiet, and i felt better. And you, saying you loved me, made me feel like i could survive any sort of pain. I even answered you when you werent there. And kissed the air, cause if i closed my eyes, i could imagine how your lips would feel.

I could spend hours watching one single picture of you, looking at all the shades of warmth and light that your eyes had. It was amazing, for a person like me, who either dies daily for too many emotions or simply doesnt feel anything most of the time, to get my heart filled with so many things i didnt even have the words to explain, just by looking at a picture.

And the daydreams. The sexy ones. If i got something you wore or some room you walked through, i could feel your scent and èprint it in my memory to use it afetrwards for days and sleepless nights. Grinding that scent into a thousand tiny particles that i melted all over my skin, so it was like having the smell of your sweat and breath on it. To make love with the thought of you, drinking every second of that thought like it was a drop of water in a black desert of nothingness. Touching myself and having the thought of you engrained so deeply in me, that everything id touch would feel like your skin, your hair, even the clothes you wore.

Your warmth, everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

But i forget everytime how those things slip away. How i never seem to focus hard enough on the moment, because to live it i cannot burn into it, cause my heart would blow up if i did. And they all go away. And suddenly the fear crawls in my head and i read things in your eyes that werent there before. I hear tones of spite, of tiredness , fo boredom, in your voice. I can see the love dying and i know i aint imagining it, cause ebverytime i feel that, i am always right. And i try to hold on to it. But whatever i do just drives us apart more. And it eats me up again.

I stop eating and i am all fear and unsaid things. We should talk, but talking is impossible sometimes. Dont you think we should've said things to each other? But i was afraid of what you might say, i was in denial. I was scared you'd hurt me and that i nwoyuldnt be able to come back from the pain this time. So i hid away. And you avoided saying things cause you didnt have your mind cleared up about them. You just knew that things werent right. And god, you were almost scared of me. And i didnt get that even if i loved you that hard, i was getting scary. Because i am always a child that is so terrified of being betrayed, and hurt and loose people that i just scare them away first.

And somehow it died off.

And then i had to hate you. And dont be mistaken, i miss you everyday. I miss talking to you, cause, even before we became lovers, we were friends. And you made me laugh and you made me feel good about myself. You gave a meaning to my days.

But i have been there before, and if i dont hate you, i will never be able to survive this. I have to hate you, to erase you, to forget everything good about you, because i have to remember how to live without you. How to be me, without you.

Ive lost myself so hard into other people in the past and it took me centuries to find myself again. I cant do it anymore. So i had to burn every bridge. But i still miss you. I'd love to talk to you again. To be able to get close to you without feeling anger and pain.

But no. I have to move on. I have to remember all we've had as a mistake. I have to think that you were nev er something important, that i just used you to fill a hole. To fuck you. To feel loved. And that you promised me that you wouldnt break my heart but you did. Hard.

And i have to go on that way, until i bareòly remember your name. But you're there. At night, in my dreams. or when the demons eat my head up, you're there. I remember laughing with you. I remember hopes and dreams. I remember everything. You probably have moved on, and im glad you did. I am trying still. I havent really moved on from anything since i was born. But i will.

Forgive me if you can. I need to live.

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