Syl..

There are moments in life, even when you don’t realise it, that change everything – the way you think, the person you are, and the person that you are going to be from that point onwards. The night was so warm, the cool material of your car worked wonders, and even though your hands were as warm as they had always been, you were still the coolest person I knew. I know I had too much to drink, but it didn’t matter, it all felt so right. I knew better than to question it. Everything was wrong and maybe I was misled, but I guess sometimes it is easier to pretend it is all okay.

You looked like that moment between seasons, confused, not quite settled, but still so perfect. You pulled away from my kisses and asked me to give you five seconds of eye contact. You always did things like that. I would always hear your voice but I couldn’t never quite make out what it was you wanted me to do. All I could do was think of lying down to listen to your heartbeat, the only thing that was steady about us, or the way I’d always want to be touching you and how even the smallest millimeter of space between us could feel like a mile. Sometimes I wasn’t brave enough to conquer that mile, but it doesn’t mean that I ever stopped dreaming about it. I thought of the way we spun across from each other on that spinner, spinning just like everyone else in this world subconsciously, except it was only myself and you. I wished on 11:11 that night that it was only the two of us spinning in this world and those big stars, wet with the rain you had always liked.

When you wanted to move I got really scared. I wasn’t ready, I wasn’t brave. I hadn’t been with you long enough to remember you when you were gone. I needed you to remind me that you were here, just like the moon reminds me it’s night and you should be here. I needed you to remind me of the way you made me love you, even if I couldn’t say it, it was just trapped inside of me like a canary in a cage that wanted to escape more than the worst convicts in prison. It always hurts, everything fucking hurts. It’s funny how in the very worst couple of weeks of this year, you made me love this life without an obvious effort. It’s hard to accept that your last chance to live is also your first.

And then you were back. And I forget about being scared, because I had you. And thinking I lost you answered all the questions I had been searching for just like the way the way pirates spend their lives in search of treasure. I tried to stop, I knew someone was going to be hurt. But I wanted to hurt because I was going to miss things in my life, but I knew that I would miss you most if I stopped now. I thought of the way you’d rub your nose on mine. Or the way you would breath out through you mouth and I would swallow it up, sharing the same breath. I wanted to share everything with you. I thought about the crackling embers of that fireplace you put on for me and about the way I counted the minutes between your messages. I thought of the time you made me cry, but I turned my face before you could see. I don’t have a problem with eye contact, but I couldn’t look at you. I would always turn quick before you saw and knew that I was really this fucking broken, that someone could be this ugly. I got better at it, because you were fixing me.

And then you are telling me that you can’t be with me and I felt like someone had cut out a big red tumor and it was all broken and pussy. I felt like they told me this broken, inflamed thing was once my heart, but there was no fixing it. And now all I can see and hear is your eyes when you backed away from me and your heavy sighs when you’d doubt yourself. I think of the disappointment I must have been. I’m trying not to listen because I need to remember the person I was in love with and not the person who resented me like summer resents rain. Just for a second, I really did want to forget everything and become the uncracked leather of your couch, the spaces that were forgotten and untouched. Without my thoughts, without the crooked questions and hidden agendas I was something.
But then I saw your face and I was shaking harder than you ever shook me. I was scared you were going to touch my hand and feel just how broken I’d become and put me on the ‘used goods’ shelf. I was trying not to cry, because I remembered once I had saw your face that if I forgot everything I would never know there were people in this life as rare and exceptional as you. If I forgot everything I would never know what it was like to love something so fucking much that it doesn’t even matter if it’s not yours, all you know is you cannot, under any goddamn circumstances let it go.

I know now that this is to late, and it burns like hot coals pricking at my feet. I’m full of regret like a Sunday afternoon on a lazy weekend and I’m sorry for putting off all this for so long. But you deserve to know.