Heal what has been hurt Change the fates design Save what has been lost Bring back what once was mine What once was mine On a scale from one to zero, are you happy? ‘Cause you’re on your own from here, so are you happy? I’m open to suggestions, are you happy?But what the fuck kind of question is “Am I happy?”———————————— So if you know or ever knew how to be happy On a scale from one to two now, are you happy?
Hey look Ma, I – It’s unthinkable how time can stretch and twist itself — the years folding inward, collapsing between events that once felt monumental, and the silence swelling in the spaces where our voices used to meet. The weight of it all that sits between the seconds, between the ghosts of moments that no longer touch. I keep thinking about how the world kept moving while the thread between us thinned, how the air changed but the absence stayed constant — a still point in an ever-turning orbit. And you — you did everything you could to make the truth fall gently, to let it descend like ash rather than shatter like glass against my chest. You tried to make it soft, to cradle it in compassion before handing it to me, and for that, I’ll always remember the care in your eyes when you spoke. The way your eyes never left mine for a single moment - patient, silent, gentle. Holding my resounding silence as it sifted through the trees around us. Nothing except the sound of the wind making the dead leaves dance around us, as if they too silently waited for what I might say or do. I literally cannot remember the last time a person tried to protect my heart from itself the way you did for such a moment. Most people throw words like stones. Or withhold their silence as weapon to be wielded. But you cupped them like fragile things, afraid they might break me. Maybe even a part of you too. Maybe not. I always wonder what you see during the hard moments we’ve shared like this before. I always wonder what you’re thinking as you watch the emotions ripple across my face, expressions changing slowly, subtly, one at a time. The pain was inevitable, you knew that when you brought me out there, pressing through the seconds of each minute until the right moment presented itself. I’d just….forgotten how much it could still hurt. Particularly the irony in the realization after the fact, finding out that he also has a child. It’s like these mirrored events playing side, behind an impenetrable mirror on the one side where I desperately want to, but I can never reach. I can only desperately bang my fists upon the glass, hoping that just one more furious beat of beaten and bloodied knuckles might create atleast a single crack in the reflection. Though I suppose I’m used to the universe’s multiple creative uses of cruel irony by now. The Queen of What Never Will Be. All I could do was to regain control, and take that moment of silence where I can only take one slow step at a time – up one more step, holding one more steel box, locked and wrapped in irons, up that cathedral spiral staircase in my soul, the place that holds everything that has nowhere else to go. Even now I keep it all, even if some days I’d rather see it doused in fuel and set ablaze just to watch the pyre burn…just to watch it all burn. But I keep it. I keep them all. Even after all this time. Always.
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