This Could Be A Brand New Start

3 09 2006

And I thought to myself, with my breath hanging in the air, what would I do and how far would I go to save the one I love? Maybe it’s not an everyday kind of of save, it’s not your usual rush to the scene to lift her body from the ashes; maybe it’s only a change on the inside. I’ve written from my heart before and it’s never quite coherent. I’ve written half the words my soul speaks, but I know I’ll never quite catch up.

The darkness that quietly falls in while I’ve left it exposed is wrong for you. Once we promised never to let go of the other for the other’s behalf, but my brain has led me to a loophole of sorts. Though I love you with all my heart, I can’t go on hurting you. How could I ever be happy never satisfying you, even for ten minutes? I’m not so selfish, you deserve better treatment. Maybe some will read this and con themselves into believing I’m so much the better person. I’m beyond the delusions of infatuation, you’re compassionate and understanding, and I’ve got sarcasm and an open ear.

In the next week, we’ll see who I am; I will strain myself under the critical lens of my own watch. Everything will be called into doubt privately, put to the test, stressed, and hopefully under such duress, my heart will perform not through soft-spoken and eloquent speech, but through the language of actions. I’ll leave the light on for you as you sleep, and turn it off once you’re home in my arms. Greet you with a smile and a song from my dizzy memory. Close my crying eyes and hold you when things go wrong. Walk your books to your first biology class. Wait sleeping for your return. And I will watch you come up with a thousand excuses for something you think you did wrong. And I will hold your hands and you will know it before I say, “everything is alright.”

A story for you, girl, I’d write,
Hands over hot chocolate,
A lover’s story, on a cold night,

Girl ran away, a boy, no reason,
Hands over their faces,
Autumn’s son, not that hard to love,

Don’t believe me, I’m not that bright,
And I won’t forget to fill the spaces in between,
I’ll let out the light, before we say goodnight.

When you wake up tomorrow morning, it will still feel like ages away from our next reunion. It will still feel like nothing has changed. I promise you understanding. Sympathy. Empathy. Compassion. Maybe I haven’t addressed the core of love, or shared anything particularly interesting to those reading this letter. But to you, I hope you’ll see a change. And more than that, I hope I believe in my change.




One response

3 09 2006

I love you

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