I never really knew where you were from. I don’t know where you are now.
It’s been 96 hours since I heard your voice, almost two years since you came to my place. I still don’t know where you are from and now I will never know. I will never see your place.
For so long I had to imagine you were home, but where is your home when your text message said home. I even had to imagine your face. How things have grown, grown apart.
I always had to tell you where I was, what I was doing, then to message you when I got home.. I would always keep you in my mind and “take care”. No one else but you and I, with you inside of me until I got home. With you inside me I often chose to be alone, but I was never alone with you.
I would wait no matter how long it took. I promised to wait, no matter the distance no matter the length of time as for sure we would find our way together for our forever until the end.
Eventually the good mornings stopped. Incrementally parasites ate away at my heart and ripped a hole in my soul. I became an empty soul from the leakage, surviving on only my cliche grasp of afraid of loosing you. I survived on the you inside of me where I was never alone.
I knew I’d never be accepted, I became a desperate child who spoke all the wrong words, still afraid of loosing you. Then I’d buy you a ring just so you would know it’s that something is happening, not that nothing is happening.
Through it all I carried you inside of me, but never alone with my leaking soul and determined mind with a heart consumed and eventually gone.
Now I am surely no one, but I’m not ashamed, nor embarrassed of who I spoke to desperately in search of you. I did what I had to do to find my way alone, eventually without you inside of me. I know for sure now I’m without you, all alone with all the missing pieces in the trauma of the mysterious.
Thank you for the memories and the lesson of life.