| Letters to M Stuck 11/6/05 |
| I’m just a little bit stuck. On you. This is a problem. You see, I’m kinda done with all of this now. I really really want to move on. Date. Find love. Have that big brilliant dazzling future that I can share with someone. Over and again I tell myself that there is nothing holding me back, no reason why this can’t happen. This is logic. You are not logical. You are like this never-ending carnival ride that I can’t find the stop button for. You are the whisper in my ear of everything perfect, everything that can’t be ruined. In a not so great time in my life, you were everything I needed you to be. However, my life is going really great now and I don’t need you like I needed you then. But try to tell my insides that. Some days, I think that it would be easier if you had died. It would have been horrible, and it would carry that horrible echo everyday. But there wouldn’t be any self-doubt. And there wouldn’t be this awful waiting. There wouldn’t be possibility. That is what comforts and kills me in unequal measures the way things are now. When I am feeling very cosmic and zen, it is comforting, this interior knowledge/delusion that all is not lost, what once was can be again regained in some fashion. When I am living in the real world, the one where I just want to be a part of it....the possibility kills me. Because if I move on, and you return....I don’t want to lose you again. And I know what I’m losing if I don’t move on. I’m losing my present. I’m losing my future. I’m losing the chance to find love outside of you. And probably a good chunk of my sanity and goodwill along the way. Yet, if I move on, whether you ever speak to me again or not...I lose you and all possibility of you. And that’s a decision that I have to make. It’s not like if you died. The decision would have been made. You would leave, never to return. I would grieve, but then move on. Because there would be nothing left to do. As it stands now, I grieve the loss of you and wait. And at the same time, I am grieving the loss of what I may have without you. The time is coming when I will have to choose which grief I can live with. Because I can’t keep mourning both ways. I can’t hold out hope for ever. I can’t destroy myself in the hope and the waiting. I need to take a deep breath and step away from the wall, let go of the support. There’s a whole big world out there, waiting to be lived in. I can’t cling to the side, in the desire for you to take my hand and be beside me. Because you aren’t there, and you may never be there again. It’s hard. Really, really hard. I don’t know if I can do it yet. I want to. Most days. I need to start believing in the possibility of MY future. Not ours. After all, if you are meant to be beside me, it won’t matter how far I move on, you will find me. But I can’t pretend to move on like I have been doing. The pretense where really you are in the background of my mind at all times, my crutch, the ace up my sleeve, the if-it-doesn’t-work-out-maybe-she’ll-come-back card. That’s the one I live with every day. I need to let you go all the way. Play fair with my heart and not play safe. I can’t do it just yet. Maybe soon. I’m so tired of being busy, of keeping busy. So tired. I’m scared too. Giving you up is losing you, mourning you all over again. I don’t know if I have the energy to do that right now. Maybe soon. Letters Home |
| "You are like this never-ending carnival ride that I can’t find the stop button for." |