the covers rustle as you slide under.
slowly, gently.
the light clicks off and your warmth moves across my back.
your fingertip brush along my cheek with a stray strand of hair
and your lips plant a quiet kiss where that strand used to be.
when your breath moves from my cheek to the back of my neck,
your hand slides around me and pulls me just that little bit closer to make us one.
gradually my body begins to absorb into yours and your heat into mine as your breathing becomes deep.
to love me in this way
would be to love me completely, vulnerably, gently.

I’ve never been a true believer of any religion with nothing more than a handful of faith.
Since losing you, that handful emptied as I let you go.
I now find myself wishing daily that I will find something to hold onto in order to feel a sense of belonging.
I’ve never been much good at holding onto and belonging to myself.

one day,
as you’re lying in bed,
he will cross your mind
like an unexpected thought.

you will realize
it is because today
was the first day of
not continuously staring at a chat with an empty message box
not updating him on what you’re doing
not feeling the urge to know how his life is going.

it will scare you.
this is the very thing that has terrified you from the very beginning.
not knowing
not being connected.

don’t be scared.
this connection?
it was wrapped around your heart,
your throat - slowly suffocating you.
you don’t know what fresh air tastes like anymore.
trust me - it is good for you despite its unfamiliarity.

it is not his fault, it is not yours.
the suffocating felt like comfort.

memories of you are tainted in ways i can’t describe.
ways that make me admit to having my first regrets.
ways that make my stomach twist in discomfort at the thought of you.
ways that make my heart ache while bursting up in flames.
hot
red
anger
at the memory of you.
how dare you hurt me in such a way
that memories in themselves,
a concept i once used to cherish above all else,
be twisted into things i despise.
i never had regrets. i only ever looked at memories with light in my eyes and a feather heavy heart.
until you.

there was a time i wrote about you daily,
putting into words the emotions attached to my belief of you being a guardian angel.
the pain,
the confusion,
the hope,
the faith.

but now months have passed
and i can’t help but think back on you
and realize that in due time, my guardian angel never reappeared.

i no longer have you,
my guardian angel seems to have turned a blind eye towards me,
my faith has long shriveled up,
my hope and trust in you and us has morphed into hopelessness,
my confusion is no longer towards why i was blessed with you and cursed with timing but rather towards the absence of you and all that you promised.

in due time, i was never blessed with my guardian angel returning, but rather having to learn how to live without one.

i am still deciding whether learning to live without you is a blessing or a curse.

identifying my toxic traits and fixing them,
gaining my independence,
finding comfort in myself in times of loneliness,
learning how to let go,
adapting to the idea of wishing the best for someone but not wanting anything to do with them.

all of that,
i can give thanks to you for.  

but the breaking down of the walls you caused me to build?

that i can only thank myself for.

one day i will meet someone who will understand my soul as deeply as i do
and i will understand theirs as deeply as my own.
they will have felt the love i have felt, the loneliness that aches in my bones and the yearning for someone to understand me as well as they do.
because of this understanding, they will feel the hurt, the fear and the brokenness that i do too.

but contrary to popular belief, two broken halves do not make a whole.
no matter how perfectly the jagged edges fit together, there will always be pieces chipped away and lost along the journey to get to each other.

and i can’t help but brood over the fact that the pain, heartache and walls another had caused from not understanding my soul, could keep me from the one that does.