Day: May 4, 2020

Dear Brandon,

You pulled our son’s hair and intentionally hurt him! I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for something like that. Yes, he was hurting me by pulling my hair, and if we were in kindergarten, I would applaud you. There is a big power difference between all of us, and you are ruining it.

I don’t know if I can forgive you all of the other stuff too. Did you that I have been drinking almost every other night (sometimes more) to cope with my anxiety of not knowing what you are going tpl dl next.

Your outbursts are frightening to me! I am scared shirtless with you, simply because I have a child with you. I ache for the man that I used to know when I was pregnant.

It is fucking sad.

Everything before that. You who was supposed to be my anchor, coming unhinged and allowing me to drift away. And the storms. They’ve been hitting. Like your rendition of thunder road at that Christmas party, like I can hear it again and we all never broke.

Split apart. Realizing more of who I was. Loving her. Almost dying over her. Selling him out for her. Uncalled for. Outrageous.

And then bam I’m gone, lap of luxury but a strict prison. Walking on eggshells. I gave it my all. I was guilty of the crime just not that time. Guess that’s my way of justifying it.

He was a damn connection for me right off the bat, waiting for those long shifts to see him come in for the night. He haunted the place like a ghost, and this ghost let me tell you, there’s this pull. Like chains wrapped around my stomach. A magnets power only being cranked up.

And then it happened. And it was happening but there was all this paranoia and fear. And then it blew up. But we knew it was bound to. And I was broken up all across the board from quite a few different directions. And then you were gone.

As the pot stirred you resurfaced as I had to come find you, in your dark corner somewhere, your smoky essence. To tell you what had gone down. Because I didn’t want it to bring you down. But then you told me the truth about something you did. And I was done.

And you were elsewhere, and gone. I thought about you. Since coming back home I am flying off the rails a bit. I found myself in some bad situations. Like I do. But then I cried on the bathroom floor in a pink robe in a crack house for you like a baby. Like I was never not yours.

You were on your way for me. They were screaming in the other room. I did things I’ve always wanted to do. But it just wasn’t enough. There was no emotional capacity. And it wasn’t about me. I wanted you.

I sat there in a room of people who chase the dragon on the regular, have seen the dragons eyes and felt the fire but yet still carry those burns. As they kindle and spread over you slowly. You can’t put the fire out. It burns all the time. But you don’t put that shit down. And we know each other already if you know what I mean, because if you do, we are the same. They were the same as me. Same as my home. We spoke the same language. Felt the same pain.

It wasn’t about them, I kept saying. Anyone else would’ve looked at them as dangerous people. I know it was a dangerous situation by rights. But I could feel that I would make it out. There was a woman who I especially clicked with. She felt my energy bouncing off of everything. She held me even during this pandemic, she reminded me that if nothing else I have a roof over my head. We knew that we knew each other.

She broke down because she felt that he wanted me more then her. He told me he was really his twin, that the guy I met yesterday wasn’t really him. I played along. I told him that the girl he met yesterday was bipolar and had a drinking problem. As he could recall her throwing up on the bathroom floor, but remembering to take her bipolar medication at the end of the night. Some sanity left. But still a crazy bitch.

I couldn’t bear the thought of walking down there alone. Joe said he would walk me down. He said he sold cocaine to Stephen Tyler for four months twice a week. We talked as they fought in the other room. Crying in that living room with strangers.

And then you were there. I couldn’t help it I didn’t walk to you I almost ran. First instinct was to throw my arms around you and take you in. We were out there in the most dangerous part of town, finding this again, lost. That moment was something I got lost in.

He brought his gun just in case. He apologized and I forgave him. He asked me if it was true that I told her that I wanted her more than him. I did. I certainly did.

We spent six hours together. It was realizing just how much this was. You just wanted to hold me. I realized how good it felt to have you there.

You told me you thought about me everyday. You remembered that my birthday was last Thursday. You told me that you dream about me. Told me that you wondered if you were ever going to see me again.

And then there we were again. Here I am again. Where will I be? Where will we be?

In the immutability of time, I have been left to thought. In this manner then, would all these memories come to be forgotten? And at night when tears stream down my cheeks and my demons descend into the bottomless abyss of my mind. Embracing my solitude, everything becomes grey. But in the end, there is none but you, your memories, your touch, your scent. Once again you become the reason why my heart flutters again.

AM

Dear X,
The truth is… I’m scared to let you go. I want you to have your great adventure and live your life to the fullest. I know you’ll never feel the same way back and that hurts, but I want to see you happy. And I know we’re meant to part. I’ve got all my aspirations and passions to chase and you have yourself to find. But it hasn’t changed that… right now, I’m yours. And I wish I weren’t. I wish it were easier to leave you first, but every time I do, you bring me back. And every time you tell me you miss me it breaks my heart. Because you miss me for the moment, but I know I’ll never really stop missing you. I’ll always miss our banter, our play wrestles, our arguments on life, our stolen moments, and our nights together. And I’m greedy for wanting more time with you, but I feel so safe and so happy when we’re together. I’ll always remember you fondly as my hippo, my favorite pillow, and a part of me will always be
Yours,
Tasha

A. A.

Here we are again, thousands of miles apart and sneaking daily messages. I’ve tried to stay away; part of me thinks that my desire for your friendship has ruined you. It seems I can’t control it. I feel drawn to speak to you. It’s almost like there’s an emptiness when I don’t know how you are. Oh, how I’ve tried to fill that void …for you. The pain is familiar now. It dances around my brain behaving like a drug. It fills my head with dreams until I’ve convinced myself I need to hear from you again.

You left her after she called me a slag for conversations we had when we were together. (You saved them, every last one.) I blamed myself for reaching out after all this time. I never told you that no one has ever defended me in such a manner. Perhaps the notion is silly, but I thought it quite chivalrous in its own way. I’m not sure I deserved it, still.

It appears that life has this circle of pushing us together and then ripping us apart. In all honesty, I’m not sure how much more I can take. I love you. I have loved you since the day we met. I don’t mean that in a romcom way, this wasn’t love at first sight. This was an endless conversation, deep and effortless. It was the beginning of something I’ll never put behind me. I bared my soul to you and you accepted me in a way no other ever will. We accepted each other faults and all.

I hope you know that you’re still the first and last thing on my mind every day. I hope you know that I want nothing more than your happiness, regardless of whether or not it involves me. Ahh, I am ever the cliche.

I hope you know that everything I have done has been for you. I realize now that those decisions were not mine to make, they were your decisions. I’m uncertain of what I was trying to protect you from. I can’t figure out of I did it so that you could have your life or if it was because I didn’t think I was worthy of your love. You were willing to sacrifice everything for me and I didn’t want to be the reason you left your life and loved ones behind. We were so young, I actually believed I was doing the mature thing.

In any case, you were right about the time I was wrong. You wouldn’t say it to me, but I knew in my heart what you were speaking of. Perhaps one day, life will stop being so cruel. Perhaps one day, I’ll run into you and we’ll have police box coffee. Perhaps I’ll have a chance to right my wrong. Until then, I’ll be seeing you in my dreams.

Sincerely,
Your Penguin

So I have posted last April 20 a letter to the love of my life entitled “One More Day” and I have been doing better (I hope) since then. So let me share a piece of what I have been through

Trying (One More Day Pt. 2)

I have been asking for the impossible
That is to have one more day with you
To relive the love we have lost
Maybe I’m the only one who wants it now

You are happy with her
And I want to be happy for you too
I want to be able to smile when I see pictures
Instead of my stomach turning at the sight of it

We ended two years ago
And I should be okay with that now
So much time has passed
That being in this phase feels selfish

I want to be able to let go of your hand
Without wanting to hold it again
I hope I can let you go
Along with hoping it’s still us in the end

I have been trying
One day I hope I can say I did it
But until then, I just have to keep loving you
And missing you until I don’t anymore

We weren’t supposed to meet. I wasn’t supposed to live past 37. I fell all the way in love and I waited. Through D, Carter, Randy, the repo man you felt the need to come tell me about, random internet strangers in the Yahoo chat days,

Living in the tunnel, sign spinning for Slayer tickets, my daily prayer was answered. You called and said you couldn’t stand the thought of me living outside in the winter and I was truly overjoyed. Then it was gone.

You’re what I think about when I’m not thinking about anything. Ozzy c.1986 levels of drugs and booze couldn’t cure that. I wasn’t actively suicidal but I wasn’t taking vitamins either. I think you are skeptical about me sitting by the tracks in Montgomery and letting a coin toss decide my fate. Heads I go back and try to get you, go to school, settle down, Tails I hop the Southbound KCS rail to LA and meet up with Jeremy. Get busy living or get busy dying. 100% true.

I didn’t give up hope but when you and Becky were getting all dolled up, I had no clue you were doing it for me. 6 years I waited. You’re my best friend. You get me. I can tell you anything and did. You did the same. You ‘got’ me. This sewer planet and the shit that inhabits it have done nothing but ignore me unless they need someone to abuse but you let me look away from that and move to your side of life. I kept on the sunny side and laughed at the absurdity of the evil in people’s soul and though you never saw that side of life, you dug my gallows humor. I don’t like my tattoos and you said they fit. They are perfectly imperfect.

When I said I wanted the wedding date to be 4/29 because it’s Hitler and Eva’s date, you knew it wasn’t racism or Nazi worship, it’s that they died together on 4/30. That the definition of evil was capable of love and they kept their ’til death us do part’ vow literally. He was worried about her immortal soul as the world collapsed and gave her the painless way out and it wasn’t a suicide. That there is someone for everyone.

You said were were soulmates. We would always be best friends. It’s you and me against the world. You’d never let me under a bridge again. 16 years of friends, 9 years together, 8 married, I forgave you everything. You fucked a friend that I knew when he was 12. I never raised my voice to you. I never brought it up again. I forgave you. 34 days in jail, you never wrote. I waited. I went to help Scott hang insulation and you kicked me out via a text message. I couldn’t get a ride home and you won’t come get me and last time i walked 28 miles to see you I got a stress fracture in my foot and i couldn’t walk it again. I didn’t know when i left the house that day was the last time i’d see you or my dog. It had been a month since we had a disagreement, let alone a fight.

When Mom died, nobody was there. You said you’d be there. I was alone for 4 days and nobody came. I waited.

Except for the 3 beers a day you brought, I quit drugs. I lost contact with 5 of 6 friends. You said “It’s me or Scott” so no matter what it’s my fault.

So I sat under the bridge in the snow after you made me a liar to God when I signed the papers. I left the utilities on again so you could finish your online classes. I didn’t take a dime out of the bank, I left the car so you didn’t lose your job. Again. I had no car, no job, no place to live and though you said you would, you didn’t pay the electric so even if I did get together 1500 to get in an apartment, I’d have to pay off the old bill. I don’t know what I did to you to make you think I deserve this and you won’t tell me.

So you went back to Jeremy and are doing everything we said we’d do. The one that said he’d take you back but had to have another kid then has you mowing at 8 months, his dad was staring at your tits when you were 15, has called you nothing but a drunken whore to everybody in town.

Today is 4/30. Meth, vodka, and weed can’t drown your memory. It’s been 1,095 days and you are what I think about when I think about nothing and nothing is all I think about. I never called myself homeless because I never had a home until you and I am still waiting for you call and say Just come on home