Thursday, July 12, 2012

i know he’s not there

ph: nikolinelr

Time will pass by and I begin to feel like I’ve finally met someone that can loosen the reigns on my heart. There is always a comparison though, and in this case nice guys don’t finish last. Nothing else feels right. No one. If I’m in bed laying with someone, I can feel his body next to mine, and I know he’s not there. And I know that cold chill that suppresses my lung capacity, making it hard to breathe, is the lack of his sweet warmth; that sadness. And all I can say is as simple as it sounds-I miss him.

I’ve left behind the customs of a child. I prospered into an adult. I’ve felt abandonment and suffocation. I’ve been slandered, and I’ve been slaughtered with my vibrant blood smeared upon my own praying hands. Martyr has become my suffix. For over one thousand, two hundred and thirty-seven days, I have wanted to efface them all, minus one.

Four years ago, our leg muscles would swell as we walked for hours. The sweat in our hands would suction onto one another, closer and closer. And just like our entire situation, when we tried to pull apart, it was forced back in stronger, and much more secure. He lured me in fast and hard. I gave him all of me to hold onto for the rest of his life. I stored myself away for him, hoping to be explored in new ways everyday by only him. Our searching hands lead us to absolute love; it was real, and it was alive. There should have been a “happily ever after” at the end of it all. And I sometimes correct myself by saying, there shouldn’t have been an ending. Without any excuses, I let it fail. It was a period of depression that hit me like a midnight train out of nowhere. He knew, and he did nothing but show me that he was going to be there for me no matter what happened. It seemed like all too much to handle, and I left. I was so scared, and I don’t know of what. I knew I was petrified though. Petrified of being in love maybe. Knots of guilt and anger build from my stomach to my throat and boil like scorching tar. It makes me sick, and it makes me cry. Every. Single. Day. And God, he was beautiful. He had taught me, and made me feel, raw emotion in it’s purest form and how to use it. He was perfect in every way that existed. The way his mind worked, the way that he would speak so soft spoken, and how he felt. His aura would leave me in amazement. And I loved nothing more than that gorgeous smile.

Even after we were apart, him and I spoke. A new woman was in his life, and I was angry that he was with her. Not jealous, not at all. I was angry that he wasn’t treated the way he should have been treated. I know I had left, and breaking a heart is the worst that can be done, but I always treated him like the prized possession that he was. This girl raped him for his happiness. He lost himself entirely. And I tried to tell him to leave her, telling him the inverse of something is not that something’s opposite, but rather, it is that somethings turned around, and pulled inside out. I insisted that when you add two opposites together, you get zero. Zero is the embodiment of nothing. And I told him, “I’m sorry, but you two are nothing.” I couldn’t tell him what to do. So I swallowed my tongue and I let him read the words backing up in my eyes. After we’d secretly seen each other, he’d tell me how it’s so wrong how he feels for me, and wishes that there was never a break between us. And to this day, nothing has changed. I am made of a fragile heart that’s in excruciating pain. I don’t know how to gain closure, I don’t know how to properly move on. Memories have burned into the pitch black canvas that appears when I close my eyes.

Does it sound desperate? I wouldn’t doubt it, but following my doubts has left me in regret. To his face, through a phone, miles, and states away, if this ever comes across your screen- I miss you. I love you. I wish I could have one more kiss goodbye, one more whispered goodnight when you’ve already fallen asleep. This has all become indistinguishable.


  1. I feel like you need to get yourself together. Get yourself together and tell him the last paragraph to his face. He needs to know the truth and you need to say it. Being an adult means sometimes we have to do the hard things, but know that you have the strength to do them. If you still feel this way and he is still in contact then I don't think you're finished. Life has twists and turns. But, you only have one life and you need to be authentic. Stop torturing and guilt-ing yourself. You made a mistake. You want a second chance. Own it. Be bold. Good luck.

  2. Why did you leave him in the first place?
    Well I agree with the post above me. You have to be strong, either you tell him or move on.

  3. i love him that If you still feel this way and he is still in contact then I don't think you're finished. Life has twists and turns. But, you only have one life and you need to be authentic.

  4. Have you ever wondered which hurts the most: saying something and wishing you had not, or saying nothing and wishing you had?

    1. I think 'saying nothing and wishing you had' hurts more.

  5. 1. Saying nothing and wishing you had- I agree
    2. You must tell him your feelings, but in first place make sure that you're ready for the answer.
    I think I understand why you left. I did twice. So you have to clear up your mind before. You will get a secound chance. Everyone deserves one, but don't miss it. If your still not ready, you'll hurt him. More.
    Love. :)

  6. Unfortunately I know exactly how you feel. I never told him. And I never will.

    I've met someone else now, we've been together for ages actually -but still, the shadow of my "first love" lurks in the debts of my mind,I guess he's there to stay. He owns a part of my heart and he will never return it. Once a year I meet him (yeah, I know we shouldn't), and we both know that whatever is left of "us" will always live on, even though we can never be with each other. We are too committed in our new life, and I would never ever be able to hurt the man I'm with now. He's perfect, and I love him...but still, he's not him.

    The song "Near to you" by "a Fine Frenzy" describes this perfectly.

    and btw: sorry for my English, I haven't written in english for years.

  7. Wow. I emailed this in so long ago. It is remarkable to find it on here now! I remember constantly looking, seeing if it had ever made it on as a post. It's a bit shocking. Thanks for the comments, all of you.

  8. Just an update, i wrote this a few years ago. And ironically, on Christmas, i was told he stopped by my parents house to see if i was there. I wasn't, and i must admit, i'm glad i was not. Everything was said, and everything was done. I exhausted my words, and in the end, i realized it was never me for him. And after some time, i realized that he wasn't for me as well. It was beautiful when it was. And i am thankful for that.
    But now, years have passed. I have grown. I have learned. I have revived a new me. And i have done it with a man who has saved me. I thank all i have met. Spoken to. Shared eye contact with. I take fibers of every type of interaction and construct life of it.
    Love is there. Ladies, don't look for it, though. Let it seep in slowly and unexpectedly, allow it to thaw.


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