Too long. It’s been so long now. It feels like a minute ago but yet years ago. I don’t know which I wish it was. The time is constantly changing for me, how far it feels. And yet sometimes it attacks me, pulls me by my hair. The demons of that night multiplying, getting worse as though that night never ended. That the sun never came up the next day. I am pulled to the ground, everything sacred ripped from my hands, my once sanctuary of peace and chaos becoming spilled and shattered on the concrete floor.
I couldn’t bring myself to believe what had just taken place. I didn’t believe in God, I just believed in you. And I believed what you said to me. Although I’d get angry, fire surrounding me, ready to be thrown towards you, you put it all out with just one look. One outstretch of your arms, pulling me in. The ocean in high tide. I have always been the element of water, fire has never been me. But you could make me something I wasn’t, all while bringing me back to who I was.
That’s why I was left reeling. Where were you to bring me back from this form of fire? To pull me back to the shore? I was burnt to dust, and you watched it happen. Like this was everything you had been waiting for. I believe it was. You couldn’t bring yourself to let me burn on your own terms. So when someone else set me ablaze, you decided it was time. To let me burn and turn your back.
But I didn’t let you. I burned through your door, I let the fire burn through my eyes. Look at me. And you did. Tell me why I’m like this. Tell me you know. Help me come back. Give me the antidote you were always so good at concocting. Water poured from your eyes, and you wanted nothing more than for me to leave. But I wasn’t, not until you gave me something. And you did. Enough to make me go.
You told me what I’d always known. But your own voice, your words, the look on your face. I needed that. But little did I know in my state of a storm induced fog, I needed so much more than that. And the questions I had would burn in my head as that last bit of wildfire that you just can’t put out.
But I know I’ve moved forward. I have. It comforts me to know that when I look in the mirror, I am not the same as I was. I’m not the small broken girl who walked around wearing your name as a dagger in the side.
I knew just how much everything had changed, when it wasn’t you I wanted anymore. I still have those questions, that need to see you, but it doesn’t consume me as it once did. There’s a whole other vision I have now. Of what I want, of who I am, of who I am becoming.
My growth is no longer being stunted, my opinions no longer being influenced. My heart no longer being used as the illusion of soil in your godforsaken garden, convincing everyone I was the proof of how you were there to water us. To grow us. Because all you want, is to suck the life out of any mouth willing to beg for you, and they have. And they will. But I am not apart of that anymore. No one is looking at me feeling that. No one is feeling me feeling so high, wanting to feel what I was experiencing.
I know you’ve tried to have that effect again. But without me there it’ll always be just a weak replica. And that’s a good thing. Let you break within the reality of what you did. Who you are.
I don’t hate you yet. But I’m getting there.
That night for so many reasons was my downfall. But I turned it into what not only changed everything for the worse, but for the better. I have mastered the other elements, and I know how and when to use them. Your presence is so minimal now. I learned in order to shake you from me.
I’ve succeeded, in every way you thought I never could. In every way you never will.
I remember hurting, hurting so badly. And you leaving me, pouring gasoline on my already wounded body, and throwing your lighter. Me laying there burning, still thinking about how I must’ve deserved this, how I’ll apologize, how you’ll come back to put the fire out.
Well, I did it myself. And now I am made purely of water, the ocean has taken me in.