February 11, 2009

I'm in Mourning

Nobody died. Well, maybe a piece of my soul. An itty bitty piece of my soul.

I am mourning the death of a great relationship that I was perhaps too scared to take the next step with. I am mourning the instant disappearance of my best friend, he who probably knew most of my facets by heart. I am mourning our inside jokes, now long gone and relegated to each other's memories (which are already rapidly disappearing). I am mourning us, together, a couple, a pair, against everything together. I am mourning my stupidity, which has not gone away and probably will never go away. I am mourning spilled milk because this is not going to change. I am mourning change and a time and a place and ViƱa del Mar. I am mourning my youth which I feel is fading fast. I am mourning a life long gone.

I am so fucking sad. I haven't stopped crying all this damned afternoon. It's a never ending well of pain, the tears creeping up on and embarassing me. All that I have not cried, all that I held inside, it's pouring out now, enough for ages and ages. Enough to fill in the Pacific oceaan. Enough to take me to Taboga.

I cannot say how sorry I am. I cannot say it enough times and yet I wouldn't change any of it. Or maybe I would. I'd be more open with my feelings. I'd be straight up. Would it change anything? Probably not. I'm still so fucking sorry. I pushed you away, I pushed you away so far and now that you're beyond my reach I am sorry. The sorry's you don't or can't or won't hear. The sorry's that have lost all meaning.

I'm mourning your kisses, yet I don't want them back. Does that make any sense? I want it all and I want nothing.

I am never happy with anything. I can't just be content with what I have, with what I am, with who I am with, with my goals, with my dreams. Nothing is never enough and I feel I am going to grow old and never find any inner peace. I am not talking about settling, but about seeing a good thing when it's there.

Through it all I am sorry. People ask me all the time how I am. I was doing fine. I don't know what happened or when it happened, but it all started falling on me. Every iota fell on me and I couldn't take it anymore. I was doing so well, so single and carefree (which ironically is part of my 2009 goals). I miss you. I didn't realize the full extent until someone else was enjoying your company. Laughing at your jokes. Playing with your hair. This is not jealousy, just a rude awakening.

I don't, can't, be with you right now. But I miss you. I can't have it both ways, so I will have none of it. I'm going to miss you. I can't say exactly till when, but I am going to miss you till my bones ache and my eyes dry out and pop out like raisins.

It used to scare me to death when you'd say that I was the best thing to ever happen to you. I just couldn't believe that someone like me, ME, could be the best thing to happen to anybody. I still can't believe it. And yet you are one of the best things to have happened to me. I don't say that lightly. And yet I cannot be with you right now (not that you'd want to anyways, after the way I have treated you). I don't blame you.

So is it better to part ways, to say goodbye, to breathe you in one last time and wish you well? I am a coward; this you know well.

This is my good bye.

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