And That's the End of It. There's Nothing Else

i stared at this page for almost thirty minutes thinking of what to write.

i’m trying to use words to plant a certain image and all the feelings it evokes, the context, the connotations. i don’t have such mastery over the words to do it justice.

what can i say that i haven’t said ten times already here?

i’m sad, im crazy, im excellent in bed and here’s why that’s tragic, i miss my ex, my childhood was so horrible and traumatic,here’s what the voices in my head are saying, etc. etc.

“speaking of us, what was it you were thinking earlier? that you could spend your life fucking everyone god sends your way but you’d only ever love that one person. what happened to being over it?”

I am over it, I truly am. I’m not sad, I don’t regret, I’m learning so much, so on, so forth.

I’ve laid it all out to bear here, everyone has seen most of my ugliness, my malice, my hypocrisy, my weakness, and whatever may be beautiful about me. I’m sure this means, anyone who decides they’re infatuated with me will eventually read all this and be repulsed by one aspect or another.

“what has us in this mood”

it’s so silly! that damn gay vampire show. as toxic and horrible as it was, as much as it drove them both to madness, horrid scars and wounds inflicted on each other, the love endured. 77 years later, 77 years.

“would you wait 77 years?”

I would.

“is that a reason to live? knowing full well you’ll likely never see each other again?”

Yes. I have no choice. Every time I go somewhere new, like clockwork and without fail, one of you sends me an imagining of running into them randomly. and in that hypothetical moment, i find god, because no matter the outcome of running into each other again, what a fantastic coincidence that would be. I imagine I’d just fall to my knees.

“this fixation is horribly destructive.”

All-encompassing Unequivocal Love is what defined my life, is what my life amounted to. Despite how horrible, shameful, and humiliating a life I’ve led. I knew that, I still have that.

“what was the image you were trying to conjure earlier?

Oh, just something about how I’ve noticed, I’ve fallen into this habit of wrapping my larms around myself as if I was wearing some sort of imaginary cloak. It’s silly, cringe, stupid, like everything else I make and put online.

For the rest of you, don’t worry about me, thanks for reading this far. It’ll be a long time before you ever see me again.

Mon cœur, it’s unfair of me to say but, you never stopped being my reason to exist.

Live a beautiful life.

“the last entry is another pointless declaration of love.”

“it could never have been anything else.”

post script

rest my head on my pillow, close my eyes and then, as the quiet sets in…PAIN! aching, aching, aching until I fall asleep. Like every night before, and possibly every night moving forward. Constant, constant pain.