rough draft dg.doc

526ae19ea3a9cce5682b8fb4c1695cc3

i’m drowning, but i’m paralyzed.

like i’m stuck between two floors, trapped in an elevator

i’m torn, forlorn. i’m defeated and deflated of all that is within me to fight once more. I know you feel it too. We slowly detach, knowing less and less about one another and for some reason that’s okay to you. How much did you really love me? Time after time I catch myself falling over words, standing on them as if they are trustworthy and stable. I ignored all the warning signs, and proceeded through each hallway and opened every door. I carried you, the full weight of your life, for as long as I could treading waves in the deep sea of what we thought was love? What is love anyways? I felt it once in my life and I am convinced it came slow and steady with effortless ease. It came on like a meticulous and cautious storm, but fully engulfed me with magic. There have been a few days that were the best days of my life, and junior prom was one of them. I have always set the bar where we left off. Love is ever elusive and connections are so rare. I’ve always been young, wild and free. I feel ageless. I don’t feel my age and it scares me that in 16 years I have lived at most half of my life. To be honest, I have spent nearly half of my life single and if I die alone, I will take magic moments and bursts of love and experiences in meaningless relationships or spend my time in solitude. I am the alpha, even though he called me his omega (love you Devon, rest) I’m dominant, intellectually astute but really I meant just really damn smart, too often too smart for my own good. Sometimes my own brain annoys me, but I am grateful for my gift. Remember every gift can also be your curse. What you idolize, you demonize. I’ve never understood that fully until now. I put you before my God. My world revolved around you, your needs, your schedule, your issues, your future, our future, when I’d see you again, how we’d make this work, and yet I still wonder if I’ll ever see your headlights in the dark again–or the subtle knock you make when you come over. Your teeth, white and big like chiclets–your pride and joy. Your baby brown eyes, with rims of gold. You’re tall, strong body. Your amazing and hideous tattoo’s. The lines around your head from your fall. Your shorter foot. You’re laugh when I really get you good. Your amazing five pairs of shoes, and the pair that’s in your trunk. You’re two cars, one of which you totaled before it could be mine–h8 u. My favorite memories of us are when I barely knew you. Those across the room stares are seared into my mind and those long walk talks to my car. I loved how safe I felt with you beside me. Little did I know you were on a warpath straight to destruction, and one nudge from the holy spirit and you fell into my arms. I held your head as you cried about your little girl, time after time. I wrote your resume and stood by you when you had a bum job and no money. I loved you when you were nobody and nothing and had nowhere to go but up. I saw you through victory after victory and did my best to lead and guide you the best I could. But that wasn’t my job, that’s a job a man should do for the woman he loves, but you taught me selflessness in a relationship. I loved the way you were mature in a way that only experience could make you, among confidence, it was the sexiest quality about you. I remember nights when I looked into your eyes and we saw through each other’s souls, our breaths would circulate between our lungs, sharing ourselves as one. The way you touched my body was gentle, passionate and possessive. Safe and study hands, always throwing me off guard with something silly. You were my first adult relationship, the first man to pick me flowers and show up with a beautiful arrangement. You definitely left a mark on my soul.

Are we or are we not?

But everything changed the day you saw your daughter for the first time. You shared your day with someone else and that day was the beginning of the unraveling of everything good between us. I found myself feeling like a parent to a child, yelling to get attention and pulling drastic measures only for my basic needs to go unmet. Your words were poured out thick like out of a vat of honey, but the action was as solid as a ghost–invisible. Now I sit here at night, empty of food, soul greyed out, pouring out my soul to you. Will you even read this? Inseparable since we’ve met, but it feels like we are strangers now. Our souls are disoriented, searching for their homes.

You are broken emotionally and no matter how much I pour into you, you are a bottomless pit because you are broken in your soul. I can’t help what I can’t touch. I don’t know if you were afraid and self sabotaged this, which I can understand because I do that every time. Maybe we were too alike, it did seem at times like we were dating ourselves. Things are so complicated and confusing now. I don’t even know if I want this, I feel like you don’t and I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t know if the damage that’s been done is permanent? Where did we go wrong? I have never been so conflicted in my life about a relationship, I’m certain. I wish life were so much more direct as far as which decisions you should make, but maybe that’s the exciting thing about choosing your own adventure. Who know’s where this adventure will end.

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