I don’t really know why I’m writing this. I don’t even know if this post will ever see the light of day. I feel a lot of things, and a lot of those things are intense. You’ve been on my mind daily for weeks now. You’re in my dreams, in songs on the radio, in passing cars. It’s exactly as you intended: “I hope my absence brings you peace that my love couldn’t”. It makes me want to vomit and run until my lungs explode. You’re everywhere, and I love it. Yet, it’s not you here. I hate that.
I’ve been a lost soul for so long.. not really caring to learn about myself, as so much of my satisfaction was contingent on the external world. I was too happy or carefree or blind or selfish to look past anything else. I’ve slowly been finding myself in spirituality, and just taking more time to reflect and sit in my emotions; something I never truly succeeded in for the sake of learning and bettering myself. I’ve been overwhelmed with emotion lately. It’s not something I’m used to. You are the only person who’s ever brought forth the depth of emotion that I’m capable of feeling. No one has ever made me feel as safe, as longing, as impulsive, as obsessed, as you, in the best way. It becomes clearer every day how much I bottle in emotions and why away from pain and difficult emotions. I am not strong for that, I am so, so weak. I truly, with every fiber of my being and beyond, believe that our souls are fused. Every cell in my body yearns for you to be, and stay, connected to me. I’ve always been selfish. And unfortunately I’m selfish with you too. But man am I undeserving.
I preface this with the fact that this italicized note is not a manipulation tactic by saying “I’m not worthy of your love” and whatnot to instill guilt. I’ve seen partners trying to guilt trip each other and saying thins like that to ease the burden on themselves. This is not that. This post is in no way targeted or aimed to make you feel a certain way. It is just the most raw post I’ve made in a very long time. I’m simply reflecting on a lot of tough to swallow pills.
Like my selfishness. How I’ve hurt you.. how throughout the years I’ve been the one to hurt the purest soul. And how I can be delusional enough to think that I’m a good person after that. After all the hell I’ve dragged you through.. I wish I could cradle your face in my hands and you could feel how sincerely sorry I am for the emotional roller coaster turmoil that I’ve put you through. It makes my throat burn and my heart beat like it’s stuck in molasses. I feel hot anger for the things I’ve done that resulted in hurting you. For putting myself first, after all you did for me. After all you were and became for me. For all you are to me. How could I neglect the most precious thing to me. I’d only get so lucky. Maybe I just had a stupid arrogance about the connection we had and built. Like when siblings fight- they fight nasty and they fight harsh, but they always come back. I stupidly assumed we’d always find our way back, not thinking about if you’d ever even wANT to come back. If I hadn’t said it before: I am so, so, genuinely, sincerely sorry. I’m so ashamed of how I acted and valued your wishes and feelings less than mine. I’m so sorry for the way I put my feelings above yours when it mattered to you. for not sacrificing enough for you and always having you bend to my ways. It cracks my heart in two to admit all that I’ve done and to think how you must have felt. Gosh I’m so sorry. For the way I was cold and selfish and made you believe that there was something wrong with you, or your ability to be loved. You are so deeply loved.
I’ve never been more certain of a soul’s connection to one another. I never would have believed someone if they had come to me and explained this kind of connection. I would’ve called them a hopeless romantic and to get their head out of the fantasy books and relax. This is different. I often cross my arms and rub my tattoo with my thumb for comfort, and it’s like I’m transported back to that night. Lying on my bed after setting up the janky stick and poke supplies. Being nervous and excited, and absolutely certain that I wanted this tattoo done- here and now. I remember how you made the dots too close together and the repeat dots weren’t aligned so it looks like a big ol splotch. It’s my favorite tattoo. I remember how I watched you do it, testing out different depths to make sure you didn’t hurt me. I got butterflies when you were that close to me. When you’d make eye contact it’s as if we’d never seen each other up close. I was, and am, so happy your hands were the ones that left this beautiful permanent mark on me. I love that you bring out that kind of hopeless romantic impulsiveness in me, a quality that is very against my normal rigid perfectionist self. I was nervous about getting sweaty and then a lil stinky cause your face was basically in my armpit! I was so busy watching you concentrate I didn’t care what it looked like. Which is funny, because I’m so anal about things looking perfect, and aesthetic. And that thang is janky, but it was done by you, and it’s perfect. It’s so so perfect and I love it more every day.
There’s a few other memories I’ve been replaying lately too. Firefly. I can’t believe that was a reality. You met Evan then, and I love that you guys ended up getting along, he’s a great friend. I was probably drunk as a skunk begging to see you and wishing you were here and by the grace of God and a few chicken nuggets, you came. Man I can’t believe you did that. But you did. And I was so happy you did. I really hoped you had a good time, because I did. Whether it was freezing our butts off in the tent, or the rain, or watching a bunch of artists we didn’t know, it didn’t matter, because you were by my side. We did it together. You entered my world, the most uncomfortable, out of the way version of it that you could’ve possibly entered. (Aside from New Orleans, which I just remembered, quite fond of that visit too). You showed up, just to be with me. You followed me there just because I asked if you’d come. And you did. And it was a blast. Dancing with you, putting glitter on everything, making you take shots you probably didn’t want to. Keeping me warm at night, and keeping my dastardly secrets when I basically pooped my pants.. horrible. Never to be spoken of again.. pls.. running through camp sites and looking at all the witchy knick knacks. It was so much fun and I was so glad you joined me in that special time.
And then we have, the yurt. Man oh man. If I was ever living in a romance novel, that trip was THE novel moment. Although we’ve had PLENTY of best seller moments that I don’t think we even meant to happen. Gosh I hope you write your book about this. I’d love to hear about our life through your eyes. What id give, to be able to read it over and over, and to show others that it is real. The yurt was probably the most ballsy, nerve wracking, intimidating, impulsive thing I’d ever done. I wanted to be wholesome and read, have my wine, look at the cows, and reflect, and most importantly, pretend I wasn’t counting down the minutes to see if you’d have read my cryptic post and find me in the small window of time I left for you to come. I’d never done something like that, and being a solo female in a place I’d never been, it was a little scary, but I did feel safe. Yet being alone in a tent on a stranger’s farm wasn’t the scariest part. I kick myself every day that I texted you, I should’ve just let it happen naturally but I was bubbling over with no self control. I wanted to be mysterious and chill about it if you didn’t show up, I wanted to tell myself that the point of the trip was to reflect and truly disconnect from life to escape, but I wanted you there. And then it thunderstormed, just how you’d like it. Loud and heavy and warm and electric. The day just felt charged from then on. I feel silly that I brought wine when I should’ve had a clear head to reflect, but I was nervous. I was scared if you didn’t come, and I was scared if you did. What would it be like?? Would you be mad? What would we say? What would happen? But it was magical. We were in our own little world and I wish we’d have stayed another night. We always pick up right where we left off, never skip a beat. Our first conversation flowed as easily as it always has. I was nervous and excited, we looked at stars, made a wet little fire, and we did escape reality.
Halloween. This is a smol one that has always stuck with me. You once told me you’d “always protect [me] in any capacity that I can, even if that’s behind the scenes”. And this example is just so perfect for that. When you, me, Megan D, Matt, Meghan Swall, Herb and a few others went to the Halloween beer and chocolate festival in Tysons at Shipgarten. We had little drink coupons to try different beers and sours and I had apparently lost or misplaced one of my tickets. You pretended to find the ticket and give it to me and I was so excited that you’d found it and I could still use it. But you didn’t find it, you just gave me one of yours. I don’t know how to describe it but in the most positive way possible sometimes you’d treat me with the same gentleness you would a child. You just allowed me to believe that it was my ticket that you found, the way a mother or father would for a child, and it’s just stuck with me ever since. It was such a sweet little white lie that, lie shouldn’t even be the word used to describe it because of its negative connotation. It was so wholesome and I just will never forget that.
I’m selfish.. and I’m so so sorry. I’m selfish for wanting you to myself for 1000 lifetimes. I’m selfish for tethering my soul to you 1000 times over and praying that you never feel differently about me than you have in the past. I’m selfish for loving you at such a deep subconscious level that I’ve been driving myself absolutely mad trying to find signs from you. I pray we always find our way back to each other no matter what happens. When I get into these spirals of reminisce, it takes so much for me to not run to you, give the smallest little knock on your window and just crawl into your space and collapse in your arms and escape. Like when you housed me in a rain storm after I took my bike out for too long and didn’t check the weather. Wearing your clothes while you dried mine, heating me up in your bed and not making me feel silly for tooling around too late and ending up in the rain. For not chastising me for being afraid to drive in the rain.
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