I heard it is better to of love and lost than to never have loved at all. I was once a young man standing under the billowing oak tree with a heart full of love, with you in my sights. My happily ever after standing before me. She was the one I never stopped looking for in a crowded place, the one that made life worth living.
No man is an island. That is what they say, don’t they? If it is, then I defy them. I must be an island, a miniscule spec lost in a cold gigantic ocean. She is worlds away, in uncharted waters. Well, if not an island, an iceberg then, cold and alone. Her distance and hostility has awoken in me a cascade of pain. I don’t think I ever truly knew what it meant to really suffer.
It seemed like yesterday when she drowned me with her words and resuscitated me with her love. I was a mere casket of bones and organs, drunk on the idea that only love could make me complete. I need her to see what I see, to feel what I feel. I need her to swallow her pride and face me; I deserve the answers she refuses to give.
‘Do you love me?’ I asked timidly. In her hesitation I found my answer. I wish I could see into her mind and salvage some sort of explanation. I’ve turned over all the possibilities in my mind, yet none of them make any sense. Perhaps she never loved me? But that makes the least sense of all. The light switch never turns off, my feeble attempt at letting her know, I haven’t given up. I could of sworn she was singing me a love song back then, and that she meant it. But I guess some people speak with their mouth full.
This is an apology letter to the both of us, for how long it took me to let this go. It was never my intention to make a production of the emptiness between us. I understand now that I was never enough for you; I just wish you had said something instead of playing me like your puppet. I refuse to sit around and wait for you to deem me worthy enough of your attention again. If you really want to know how it felt when you left, if you...