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  Jul 2015 Yelena
You are the farthest place away from me,
And you can still break my heart everyday.
  Jul 2015 Yelena
Let's go get high on caffiene and drunk off each other.
Lets spend hours in coffee shops, with nothing in our stomaches but butterflies and my cappuccinos and your lattes. Let's become giddy and delusional and find everything amusing and not be able to do anything but laugh.
Lets drink and drive as we ride around to exciting places. With every turn down a new curvy road you'll travel deeper down the curvy roads of my mind. Ill become intoxicated and weak and you'll become more and more charming as with each turn we'll fall deeper into a drunken memory.
You get me higher than any drug could.
  Jul 2015 Yelena
Rewind to the first day you
Asked me to marry you.
It was raining, I wanted to kiss you.

December of our first year married;
You woke me up every morning
To watch the snow fall.
I rolled my eyes as you
Watched like a child.
You looked at me the same way.

Our first Christmas together was
About the same. It was
Only two years prior to our marriage
And you bought me a necklace.
I wore it every day
Until the day you left.
I hope the river likes jewelry
As much as I did.

Fast forward to our
Second spring together.
You pulled the car over on the side
Of the road to pick a wild flower.
We were already running late.
We always seemed to do
Everything too late.

Fourteen and a half days later
You told me you wanted me
To buy a nice dress for myself
And meet you at a restaurant.
I told you no,
I had work in the morning.
You drank every night
For a month after that.

You sang to my small unborn baby
Bump every night before bed.
Our next trip to see our baby's face
Did not go as planned.
You never could get me out of that
Black dress after her wake
And your eyes matched it
Perfectly every day after.

Fast forward to the day before you
Asked me to sign the divorce papers.
We made love.
I cried and said "this isn't working."
You said "I know."

I could hear you cry from the
Other side of the bed
And your hands felt miles away.
I remembered the first time
You touched me this way,
Long before your hands
Were calloused.
We were Hell bent on doing it
And I could hear the same lack
Of hesitation in your voice when
You said you had to leave.

Flash back to the first time I told you
I loved you.
I said it too soon. You said it back,
I didn't expect you to.

You left your ring on the
Coffee table our last night.
Suddenly I missed the rings
Of condensation marking the
Table every night and the
Clanking noise your ring
Finger made against the beer
Bottles after every fight.

I wish I could have been enough
To stop you from drinking.
I remember when you drove away.
"Turn around and beg me to stay.
Turn around and beg me to stay."
You didn't turn around and
I did not stay.

I passed the garden we were
Married in on my way to the court
House to sign the final papers.
A couple was leaving, newly wedded.
I find irony in that.

A few years later I passed you
On the street.
It was snowing, you had that same
Look in your eyes.
You smiled at me, a distant
"I'm sorry," smile.
I nodded, but I could not smile back.
You see, I never stopped loving you,
But I was never sorry for
Letting you leave.

I still find your cuff links buried
In my jewelry box some days.  
This is the day I watched the
Locket you gave me
Sink to the bottom of a river.
I think you could find my
Hope lying there, too.

Remember the time you kissed me
In the rain?
First slow and timid, then
Passionate as if it was the
Last time we would ever kiss again.
I apologized thirteen times that day
For things that had
Not happened yet.

I think a piece of me knew all along
I would have to let you leave.
The day I said good bye
The words burned my lips
Like acid exactly like they did that day.
I said "I'm sorry."

Seven hours staring at empty
Beer bottles as you
Slam them on the table.
In fact, it's been months since
You slammed anything but beers
And I think that is where
We started to fall apart.

Three years since you left and
I cannot bring myself to love another.
I bet she is beautiful and
Kind and loving and
I bet she does not cause you to
Drink until you cannot feel.
Three years later and I realize now that
I will love you until I die.
  Jul 2015 Yelena
I'll never forget the way the sun
Hits your eyes, but I've
Forgotten the shade of
Ocean they resemble.

I fell in love with the trail
Of flowers that led from
Your grandmother's garden and
To your father's old wooden
Front door, through the kitchen
We once danced in and into
Your bedroom.

On days I cannot forget you,
I scrub a little harder in the shower.
I'm sure you no longer have
Your fingertips lost somewhere
Between my pores
(Better safe than sorry,
Like you always said).

You left me breathless from the
Day you told me I never
Deserved what he had done,
To the day you told me I never
Deserved you, either.

I sometimes catch myself
Screaming your name
In my dreams.
  Jul 2015 Yelena
They diagnosed me with
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder,
and Anxiety Disorder,
less than three months before I told you
I wanted to **** myself.
That was four years ago.

Sometimes, when there's
a moment of silence in my head,
quite like the pause in words when
you've realized you said too much,
I think I should of followed through when you had asked me to.
I think there would be a lot less
heartache for every body I touched
but couldn't love.
I fear that you'll be hidden below their skin,
waiting for me to fall in love again.

Speaking of skin, it's been almost three years
since you last touched mine.
Every July I still scrub a little harder in the shower,
somehow believing that I will forget you again.
You haven't touched me since
the 13th of December back in 2012,
but it feels like your fingertips are still crawling up my skin.

You've fallen in love again, and I can't
hold a steady relationship for more than a few months.
Maybe that's because
I still kiss boys that remind me of you.
Maybe that's because
I still hear you saying
"I never even loved you,"
long after I've forgotten the sound of your voice.

I sometimes catch the gym teacher
looking at me the same way
one would look at their siblings like
"I won't tell if you won't."
I don't mean this to sound questionable, in fact,
he gives me that look when I become distressed, like a mutual
"we don't have to talk about it, just know I know."
He gave me that same look in 2012,
when I threatened to leave you,
when you grabbed my arms and
told me not to walk away from you.
Your grip made me flinch,
and I think back then it was as unnerving
for him as it is for me to realize
I haven't gotten better in the past four years.

— The End —