Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ally Van Amstel Jul 2018
I’m sorry I took a month to respond.
I’m late because I didn’t know what to say.
I say “I know this is still really painful”
but what I’m really trying to say is “I’m sorry.”

And by “I’m sorry” I mean
“I’ll never forgive myself for the pain I caused you.”
Caused us both.
And by "us both" I mean this was hard for me too
because I’m the one who had to make the decision.

And by make the decision I mean I’m the one
who had to take a real, hard look at us, you know?
I’m the one who had to tug the thread
and feel the unraveling in my hands,
and watching the unraveling in your eyes,
and do the unraveling of our life.
I’m the one who had to face what neither of us would.
We hadn’t had *** in months.
We were newly weds.

And I’m sorry we were newly weds.
We should’ve been newly broken up.
And what I mean is that
I shouldn’t have married you in the first place.
I shouldn’t have planned a wedding with you.
I shouldn’t have said yes.

And what I mean is that I felt the burning in my belly
that night you asked me to choose you as my knight,
and to assume the role as your queen.
And by burning in my belly I mean I knew
even then that my “yes” was tentative
and that it felt more like a “maybe”
and that maybe I wouldn’t go through with this at all.
But what do you say, other than an emphatic “yes,"
to the man who has loved you for a decade?

And what I mean to say is that the “yes” wasn’t mine.
It was theirs
and it was yours
and it was ours,
but it wasn’t mine.
What I had was “no.”
Because what do you say, other than an emphatic “no,”
to the man who has tried to love you for a decade?

So my “no” sounded a lot like a “yes” that night
and I’m sorry I got them confused.

And what I mean is that you deserved better.
Not someone better than me; that’s not what I mean.
What I mean is that you deserved courage.
You deserved all of the courage
I let hide behind the moon that night,
and all of the courage
I tucked toward the back of our closet those months,
and all of the courage
I swallowed in favour of a more palatable flavour that year.

And what I mean is that I should have said “no.”
That you deserved “no.”
And all of this is just to say that I ****** up,
and that maybe I was stuck in the Upside Down
where weakness looked like strength,
and absconding looked like leaving boldly,
and “no” looked like “yes,”
and “I do” sounded a whole lot like “forever”
didn’t it?

“To my love, forever”
I said.
Emphasis on the comma before “forever”
because I never could pass up an opportunity to be pretentious.
And what I mean is that
I’m sorry I got your ring engraved with “forever”
when “forever” meant more like a year-ish
and I’m sure as hell positive
that you haven’t felt like “my love,”
have you?

And so I’m sorry I said “forever”
when what I meant to say was “not ever.”
How freeing that would’ve been for us.
And by freeing I mean I could’ve saved us both from this mess.
From this d-i-v-o-r-c-e that we now have tattooed on our hearts.

And so I’m sorry I didn’t say all that I meant to say.
And that it’s too late to say any of it now,
because now we’re strangers,
but what I meant to say that day is that
I love you
and
I want to leave you.
Ally Van Amstel Jul 2018
My life is better for having met you.
A friend
Who feels nothing like a friend at all.

My life is better for having known you.
A champion
Who champions my pursuit of actualization.

My life is better for having loved you.
An equal
Who holds an unequal piece of my heart.

A man
who leaves me better
than he found me.
Ally Van Amstel Jul 2018
Your eyes
are time capsules in my mind.
The memory of you there,
fingers lingering through my hair.
Begging me
to lock my lips with yours.
I posed from a distance,
sipping on my infidelity.
How it made its way
lasciviously
across your body
so meticulously,
intentionally
imploring you to want me.
You asked,
but I didn't know what to say
so I just kissed you.
I still see you sometimes
in the peripherals of my mind,
though the contours of your face
are beginning to blur as they do
with any beautiful stranger.
I can't tell whether the image of us
is a painting or a picture:
something I've carefully constructed
or a moment merely manifested.
But I do know
that it was the blue in your eyes
and the white in my lie
that had me stay til dawn.
Ally Van Amstel Jul 2018
4am
It’s 4am and I miss you,
now that I’m missing from you.
Want to roll over and slip my arm into the warm slot to rest
just below your resting heart.
Who am I kidding, I always did more shoving than slipping.
Want to snuggle up and cuddle up
and place my cuckooned up body
into the space in front of yours
crafted only for my cuckooned up body.
The space that fit me so perfectly,
like stacking one of those Russian dolls.
I’m not sure they’re Russian dolls
but hey, I’m not sure about any of this anymore.
I’d even welcome back the five alarms you set every morning
just to snooze the first 4 and rise only on the last.
I swear I can still hear you breathing.
A light drag on your inhale,
feel the love in your exhale.
Maybe if I place my blankets just so
it can imitate the weight
of your arms slung lightly over my body.
Resting,
protecting.
But now it’s just me in this oversized bed fit for two
and the silence is frightening,
sounds like screaming,
and the extra space makes me uneasy,
and I can’t stop dreaming about "what if?"
What if I’d stayed?
Is it late at night?
Or early morning?
And what if I’d stayed?
Ally Van Amstel Jul 2018
My tear-stained
t-shirt said more
than I could bring myself to.
Ally Van Amstel Jul 2018
Darling, do you feel it?
Dangerous words doing somersaults off the tip of my tongue.
Darling, do you feel it?
I feel our hearts dancing,
not the only ones fatigued by the millimetre of material
keeping us from what’s next.
Darling, do you feel it?
Our eyes are saying what we won’t;
they’ve always known more than we did anyway.
Darling, I think you feel it.
Even the tufts of your hair are reaching for me now.

Tell me.
In this moment, do you feel it?
Ally Van Amstel Jul 2018
With you
now that I’m without out you
in this romantic prison
turned cemetery of memories
where the empty has
created space for a universe
I’d visited only in my dreams.
No longer can I hold you in my periphery,
but now,
now I can hold you in my arms
and in my gaze
and in my heart
freely.
Freely.
Next page