I remember what happened last time you went away.
I knew he would be there. I didn’t know how sick you apparently were.
I didn’t know I had overwhelmed you. I never meant to overwhelm you. I never stopped to think and realize that my life really is way too intense to share so casually with others.
It’s a place that still hurts for me. I remember being excited about something and messaging you for when you came back home. You ignoring me and then replying back that you didn’t feel like talking. That’s how I knew everything had changed.
So the days following didn’t surprise me. I was just sick. I was just heartbroken, over many things. Same as I am today.
My heart, instead of pumping blood was working viciously, pushing painfully out of my back as it sent belladonna through my veins. Your name, it etched into every inch inside of me. As every cell, every membrane, was pushing from my skin. You being gone only finalized this, and caused the downward spiral to slam headfirst into the concrete. Your hand stroking my hair and laying it down softly, all while the concrete was full of nails.
You tell me you love me. You told me then too. But his presence always seemed to make you forget that. Like the water you were crossing to get to me made you realize we were never together to begin with and the water to me was too murky and you wouldn’t be going in my direction even if you could anyway. The current pushing you to him but you laying back willingly letting it take you. And me being left to wonder, how could everything break so hard all at once.
Is that how it happens? Catastrophes, their first attack, although unknowingly by others as they only focus on the aftermath, the first takes out the most. Those left with not even a slight warning, nothing planned to save themselves. They are just left, caught forever in that moment. Going about their lives as though nothing is wrong. But really their demise is closer than ever, and this whole time you’ve been the target in it’s eyes. You go without even knowing you’re leaving. Everything crashing down and you being left to only be able to wonder why as everything goes dark, never to be light again.
All for your face being gone. The final layer of electricity that was needed for the whole system to blow up.
Sleeping soundly, and happily as was rare for me. Knowing that when I woke up you’d be there. But you weren’t. I reached my hand out to touch you, to pull some of your essence over me like a blanket you had been holding too much of, only to realize you weren’t there and I never owned that blanket to begin with. You chose to keep me warm. But you never had to.
So this is why I’m scared. This is why the thought of even trying to be the first to reach out scares me. I won’t even outstretch my fingertips, the risk that you’re gone too high. Please wrap both your arms around me, pulling my forehead to your lips, the love for me spilling from you like it has been begging for the feeling of me inside it’s arms.
But even this, is not our bed. It’s yours. And the second you tell me to go, I will.