This idea of a twisted, passionate, black and blue love story
is not romantic.
You were a broken toy and I thought I would know how to handle it.
Like if I could be the one to patch you back up again,
everything would fall into place.
But I lost the instructions
and there were pieces missing that I couldn't find
and too many jagged edges.
I couldn't let myself be torn apart anymore in an attempt to keep you whole.

I don't know how to matter to you

I thought I could trust in you enough to reach for you as I was drowning.
I was foolish to think you were my life raft
when you were the undercurrent that kept pulling me down.
Farther and farther out I went
into this open sea of vulnerability and naivety.
I was hopelessly engulfed in this idea of who I wanted you to be.
I romanticized you and every word that spilled from your mouth.
So much that your lies were salt water in my open wounds
and I let myself believe they were the stitches.

"I've finally found that life goes on without you
and my world still turns when you're not around."*
It has been 7 days without your presence.
In these
168 hours,
10,080 minutes,
604,800 seconds,
I have learned how to define myself without you around.
I have come to find that I can enjoy my days
without needing you to fill my skies with sunshine  
and
I can be proud of myself
without feeling that I need your permission.
I use to believe that no one could hold a candle to you,
but I have realized that your flame was just too big.
You shined so bright, my dear,
and you took up my whole entire world.
I was so blinded before,
but the wind has come
and that candle is no longer lit
and I have found myself in the darkness.

"Funny how it's hard to take a love with no sting."*
I have accepted that I am in this for the long run.
You are in the songs I hear,
in the morning coffee that I drink,
in the words on the pages that I read,
in the faces of those I have come to know and love,
and you will always hold a special place in my heart.
I could write until my fingers bleed
if I wrote down all the things that you mean to me.
But, for now, I must forget these things.
I am human
and for now I want to cry
and scream
and let myself be broken
and hurt.
The tears will run down my cheeks for however long they need to,
but do not be sad for me
because they will water the flowers in my heart.
These flowers will sprout in my spine
and throughout all of my limbs
and I will, once again, smile
and be whole again.
And through all of this, I will still love you.

This one is for you, Katie.
I do not care, my dear, where you are or if it is 2 am,
if you ever need me, I am but a phone call away.
If you ache and hurt, I will bring the Bandaids
to heal your wounded heart.
I will soak up your tears with optimism and encouragement.
If, for some reason, you cannot see your beauty,
I will be there to hold the mirror and remind you.
If you feel you are losing your spark,
I will be there holding a match to light it again.
When darkness seems to take over your mind,
I will come running with a flashlight.
You will never have to walk alone.
I will always stand with you,
hold your hand,
hug you on your worst days,
jump around with you on your best,
and always be the little voice in your head,
reminding you that you are like the sun.
Even when the world below you looks dark
and scary,
you possess a certain light that will always be there to lift you up.

*32 days

I fear that while you are the ocean to me,
to you,
I am merely a wave.