How do you say goodbye to your life?
Isnt it tragic, that when faced with seperation, your mind invariably travels to the all the things that you will never have again, rather than the things that you will be finally free of.
Why are we hardwired to torture ourselves? Something I was so sure was ineveitable, and possibly the best course of action only a few moments ago seems now to be a course of action so ridiculous in its conception that I simply can not believe that it is what I had decided to do.
What I have done. Are we doomed to forever regret that which we may have thought out and discussed within the inner reaches of our minds? Why, when faced with the reality of my carefully reasoned arguements, the actual happening of an idea and an emotion, everything seems to be a pale echo of what I had thought it would truly be.
Why, and from where, comes the conviction that I am the only one to feel this way? How I now long to see you. To hear you sigh with impatience and reach for me in absolute exaspertaion that I might have taken what you said seriously. To hear you say it isnt true, that all the words we said meant nothing and that the decision we made to unintwine our lives was just anger and sleeplessness and stress. That the love was still there, unblemished and whole and enough, to take us through this storm and any other that might come our way. That we are still that, we, and not separated into the cold and dead you and I that I could surely never endure hearing on either of our lips.
How do you say goodbye to a heart and a soul full of love? DO you rip them out and pray that they will grow again? Hope that there is infact an endless supply of tender feelings, of love so deep that you leak a puddle onto the floor everytime you stand still for too long?
But it is. Whole and unblemished and enough. But perhaps, only for me. To love you and never forget even in the heat of mindless anger that you are mine and that I will love you no matter what I said and how often I said it. That you, beyond everything else I have ever touched were perfect. That i am sorry. Full stop.
And finally, at the end of our loving, as it crumbles and turns to gray dust that hides and festers beneath our fingernails, as the drum rolls one last time and the frail lightning of hope crashes out in the sky, finally, I have written you a love letter. One that I strived for so long to compose but could never find the words. Here my love, my heart, my life, here is a declaration of my love. I did not want to let you go.
