sleeping alone

May 09, 2008

When you find someone that you feel you can say anything to, you run out of things to talk about, only time to say it. Everything, as it turns out is a lot to share.


I wish I would have told you how much it bothered me when you started using again. I would give anything to be able to have the chance to say what I felt, back when you cared about my thoughts and feelings.

Did you even notice everything falling apart? Do you realize how you changed and reverted? Didn’t you see your life stop moving? How stuck you became? Even now I’ll bet you can’t see it, the rut you made and lay in. The way you eventually just stopped caring. You stopped being interesting or interested. Your motivation left, your expectations lowered. I saw you go from hating your stupid construction job, and couldn’t wait to find a real one; to not caring anymore, not looking for another job. “I don’t mind, really…” became your credo and our relationship slowly but surely became something we could have had with anyone else...


I finally asked you one night what I had become to you. You looked down at me lying naked in your arms and replied, “Uh, my real good friend? A girl I take to movies sometimes? Haha…”

Nice.

How did it come to this? When did I become a faceless body to you? I never had the courage to make you see my face. I wanted that chance, when you tossed me out with yesterday’s beercans and roaches, to look up at you, make you recognize me, remember me, remember loving me. I wanted to make you hear me,
“It’s me! Remember? Remember loving me? Remember! Remember? Its me! Please!”


I have a ridiculously hard time falling asleep by myself.
On those nights when I laid awake in the dark, my tears would run freely, they would soak my pillow. I would lay there and I wish that I hated you. It would be so much easier to be furious with you, to want revenge; I wanted your face and every memory we have together to make me angry, because it’s easier to forget bad memories.
You can’t miss someone that you detest. If I hated you, if I was scared of you, you might eventually become just a bad dream, easily forgotten simply by waking up. I tried so hard to be furious, to fill myself with hatred and anger instead of aching and loneliness.
But I couldn't hate you, I loved you. I couldn’t be angry with you, I only missed you. Tired after a whole day of trying to loathe you, I doze off pretending that it's your arm underneath my head.


I know now, that I will never know the truth about why you never called, or why you decided to treat me they way you did. It’s just hard to accept. It’s a tough pill to swallow, it’s hard after I did everything in my power to avoid this broken, bruised, vulnerable, patheticness.

I tried to fool myself, hoping you would prove that my heart was right all along. However, broken hearts are never reliable reality checks. I kept listening to mine when it said again again that you were different, he’s different, he actually cares about me, doesn’t use me for my body. He’s different, he would never hurt me. He’s different, he would never just disappear. He’s different, that’s why you let him in in the first place, because he isn’t the same. He’s like no one you know. He’s different.
He’s different. You were different… right?
Wrong. You’ve gone… and no matter how much I replay, how much I imagine and imply, or blame myself, I will never actually know the reason… and it sucks.
I loved you. I really loved you… and it still just really really sucks.


I needed to write this out. I know you will never read or hear these words, even if I someday say them to you. I doubt that you will ever know how much you meant to me, how much you gave me, because I never told you. I doubt you will ever know how much pain you’ve given me, because I never told you. I’m upset and angry with myself, and to this day thinking of you makes me unbelievably upset and angry and lonely. I’m so angry. I’m pissed. I’m really really mad, and I’m pretty sure that it’s justifiable. Logically, my brain is telling me that that is how I should feel about you. Telling my heart that I should be mad, and heal and move on with an even harder shell then before. I try to be mad, and sometimes I am.

But here’s a secret, the only one I’ve never told you:

I’m not that mad, I’m really just sad.


I miss you, baby.

I miss my you.



I miss being yours.
I miss the wonderful weight of your arms.
I miss Sundays in bed all day watching football.
I miss falling asleep to your voice.
I miss your chicken-scratch handwriting and bad spelling.
I miss your smell.
I miss feeling the safest I’ve ever felt.
I miss your snoring.
I miss your kiss.
I miss your car with its stupid broken window and door.
I miss sleeping next to you.
I miss your nicknames.
I miss you elbowing my face in your sleep.
I miss making fun of your roommates and their girlfriends.
I miss you being right there to hold me when I woke up from a nightmare.
I miss being able to count on you, even just to make me happy.
I miss your messages filling up my voicemail box.
I miss the rhythm of your heartbeat putting me to sleep.
I miss your hands.
I miss never-ending Monopoly games.
I miss your calls, just because.
I miss your kisses waking me up.
I miss your family.
I miss giving you massages when you got home from work.
I miss your horrible English accent.
I miss sitting for hours at the cliff.
I miss our skin stuck together.
I miss laughing so hard my face and stomach ached.
I miss everything becoming right when you held me and kissed my forehead.
I miss your sleepy face in the morning.
I miss never running out of things to say.
I miss being able to be quiet with you.
I miss thinking of you and smiling.


I miss you being in my life.

I miss being in your life.

I miss sharing life with you.

I miss facing life with you as my partner.

I miss your face

you smile.

your voice.

your body.


I miss spending every possible moment together.

I miss your hug.

your laugh.

your love.

your touch.


I miss having you as my closest friend.



I loved you, and think I still might, but I’m working through it and I know that eventually I won’t. I know someday I’ll look back and remember how much I loved you, and be thankful for this experience. But also I know that no matter how much time passes, I will always miss you.
Our good times were good, and I hope we both hold on to the way that good love felt like. There’s nothing like it. I pray you never forget how much I cared about you. I will miss it. I will miss you.

I’m going to miss you so much.


Good bye, You.
Peace

Love,
the One you let go