this was written March 16, 2010...tonight, i feel an update may be in order.
I told her as she walked down the hall and out of my life how I'd love her always and forever. how she'd never escape my heart and the door to our home would remained unlocked, waiting for her to come back through, no matter when the day was.
Her last suitcase lugged behind her as she told me to get over her and move on. The last words shared in person.
For a lengthy time I didn't want to move on without her, so I didn't. I thought there might have been a chance of her changing her mind, or her heart, and she'd come back home to me. Maybe somewhere still inside her, she'd find the courage to tell her mother, for the first time, she wasn't going to do what she wanted.
But she hasn't changed her mind and she hasn't told her mom to fuck off and, more likely than not, she'll keep thinking and living the way her mom tells her to.
A few months after she left, I felt I was over her so I took a look around. As I assumed, I witnessed nothing to catch my eye. Sure, there were a few girls who grabbed my attention for a few minutes and blah, blah, blah but after talking with them for a bit, I realized they were all talking about shit that meant absolutely nothing to anybody beside themselves.
So now I sit, a little over a year since she left, still thinking about her everything because I have forgotten how to forget. How to forget her most importantly.
The way those dark eyes looked when we kissed with our eyes open, the tone of her voice when she whispered i love you's into my ear in bed, the way she'd bite her bottom lip when surprised, the things we did together at her house, at my house and at OUR house, each and every time we would forgive each other after a fight.
Except the last one. We didn't forgive each other after the last one.
UPDATE
Seen a picture of her the other day, she still looks amazing. She was with her new guy. She looks happy. I'm happy for her happiness. And I'm happy for me. Because I started over too. And it feels fucking great!
When I was a little guy, I loved Star Wars. I collected those little two inch or so replicas of the masters of my imagination, my universe. I carried them in a Darth Vader case. It was shaped like his helmet and had little cubby holes for each figure. I labeled each figure's cubby hole with one of those laser looking label makers.
ReplyDelete-The D in Dallas
I don't know what happened to that case, the figures, or my imagination for that matter. But I remember it.
Today I know, that case was like my heart. I have little cubby holes for every figure in my real life that was worth storing. I keep them safe and labeled. Sometimes I scroll through just to see if I can remember the names. The labels come off, the images gets blurry, but they are still there. I don't forget to forget....time just fades the memory.
But time can't touch the really important ones. I keep those in a special cubby hole area. I update the labels always. I choose not to forget. Because without them, I am not me. And there is only a handful of these figures I can honestly say have made me, me. Trying to forget is a joke. Learning how to not let it hurt when you don't is the key.