Four Years Later

Posted: June 24, 2011 in transliteration
Tags:

I owe my boss money, because I ate on Wednesday night.
I think I’ll stop doing that again now that I found a pot for cooking in.
I sleep on my bathroom floor now.
You wouldn’t recognize the person I’ve become.

The trouble is that I loved you.
Yes, I really did.

What could you possibly have to say to me four years later?

I changed my phone number because of you.
I live an entirely different way because of you.
I’ve made no indication to you that I’m even alive anymore.
Not since the day I begged you for hours to leave.
Not since I locked my door behind you out of fear that you’d come back.

Do you want me to live this way my entire life?
I won’t.

I won’t.
I won’t.
I won’t.

What could you possibly have to say to me?

I cut your letters up this year, and folded them into little birds
marking days without any help.
Hard days.
Difficult decisions.
An increasingly stringent resolve.
I’m strong enough.
It took me this long to accede.
I left you.
No one’s loved me since.
You were right about that, but…I’ve loved.
I walked away from some of the most intensely positive feelings I’ve ever had

because they weren’t reciprocated

and I don’t want to be like you.
I don’t want to make anyone feel the way that you’ve made me feel.
I don’t want to spread this.
I don’t want to live it anymore.
What the fuck could you possibly have to say to me?

I don’t hate you. I still love you, but you’re not welcome into my world. I’m tired of hating myself. I’m sick from holding all of this anger for so long.

There’s nothing.

Advertisements

Comments are closed.