I knew a boy who came from the sea.
He traced my scares and kissed them.
He couldn't understand the pain that I had conquered up in my head.
He was the only one who had ever known the truth about me.
My therapist though I had made him up.
She couldn't grasp someone so graceful, and so magical could ever exist.
He did exist.
He existed more than I ever could.
I would let him read through my journals full of poems, and self harm.
And he would touch my arm, and leave burn marks.
I had four so far going up my wrist.
At night lying in the dark, the round burns on my wrist faintly glowed.
And when I traced over them his face flashed through my mind.
I would spend each day with him, but the moments we had to divid I will never forget.
I stand facing him, as he lifts his hand in front of my chest.
He smiles.
I start to smile back until a sharp pain rushes up my spine, and out my chest.
Everything gets bright, and my head goes dizzy.
It almost feels as if something is being pulled out from my chest.
Everything goes dark, and numb.
And after awhile I gasp for air, and open my eyes.
I'm alone again, as if it never happened.
As if I never was with him.
This is not new.

I’ve been in love  
With more things than I care to count.  
I fell for the sky the moment I realized the city hides it’s stars.  
I fell for that picture, because it was easy to love a moment.  
I fell for iced tea, because it refreshed me.  
I’ve never tried to hide things about myself.  
Never thought it better to keep things secret.  
I kept one.  
It was something I’d refused to feel.  
Everything I never wanted.  
To ashamed to want.  
It was a person.  
It was a boy.  
I think I fell in love  
But whose to say what it actually was.
I mean for God’s sake.
I fell for tea, just because it kept me cool.  
I’ve fallen for wind, and hands, and rings, and poems, and walls.
I’ve fallen for everything, because I’d always wanted to feel.  
Never needed to heal something that was broken.  
Because I never broke.  
I avoided falling for humans, because being rejected.  
It wasn’t an option for me.  
Putting up a front when it came to others, was easy.  
Everything else was easy.
Loving was easy, when they couldn’t love back.  
The first time I fell in love. Wasn’t the first time I loved.  
The first time I fell in love, was the first time I broke  
I think people assume that I hold on to everything.  
Because I remember alot.  
I think people assume I’m a *****.  
Because I probably am.  
I'd had a heart accustomed to feeling remorse for friends, never myself.  
A heart used to feeling for others, not feeling what others felt.
I never cried. Never shed a tear.  
Maybe I should have, because maybe it would have been all I needed.  
Something small broke me.
But my body never cracked. Just my heart.  
I grew small, because I was angry.  
I was capable of being large, because I loved to love.  
Things.  
Not always people.
I was forgiven.  
But I don't think I was loved  
I hope you’ve fallen for something.  
Whether it be a painting, or a mirror, or a mouth.  
I hope you’ve fallen for something.  
Because falling for something  
Was always easier than falling for someone.

All I want to do is fall asleep
          But these blurred images of steps I wish I could trace
                         Keep submerging me in a hostile reality.
                                    
I've been staring at my ceiling, wondering why
I can't just dizzy my way into an oblivion of dreams
That I'll never remember.

                                   Laying completely still.
                        Maybe if I don't move a morsel
            My body will learn to become comatose
And I can serenely evade this Winter.

In my life story you'd be the heroine.
You'd have chapters devoted to your hip bones,
And verses about your scent.
I'd write run-on sentences about the musical notes of your laughter
And paragraph after paragraph about the way you looked first thing in the morning.
I'd invent new poetic devices to describe the feel of your skin against mine.

In your life story I'm a sentence, the bare minimum.

Its 1:36am and I haven’t slept in weeks
I still haven’t found the guts to tell you you broke my heart.
I can’t even think of sleeping when you’re weighing on my mind
I only spin the wheel of memories I can drown in.
I spin it over and over again, knowing full well the prize has gone.

And its funny how, even after weeks and the miles that have set in between us,
I still sometimes smile thinking about holding your hand.
And that’s the best thing I can think of doing.
I just want to hold your hand.
I don’t need the kisses, I don’t need you to caress me.
The simple joy of your hand in mine is all I ever really wanted.

We’d spend cool spring days driving in your car,
The awkwardness of being together finally starting to melt away (along with the snow.)
You cooked me dinner while you watched Oprah and your sister spied on us.
I forget what it felt like to be in your house.
But I remember just wanting to pour through your shelves of books,
Boil us a *** of tea (mint green tea, like the one you left in my kitchen that I packed away with my life those weeks ago.)
Crack open a book, rest my head on your shoulder and listen to you read.

I can’t say I’ve become too much a fan of the person I am now.
I sit and I wait for you,
I wish and I dream that there’s something I have that she doesn’t.
I almost feel as though I could have known better.

I packed away my life 3 weeks ago.
I tried so hard to leave you in that bedroom we once existed in.
But as it seems the pattern of my life has become being angry I let her take you
And wishing that I could have changed it, and reverting back to the beginning.
I run a slideshow of us every night before I “sleep”
Sleep has turned into this chore that I just can’t seem to complete.
My spelling and sentence structure has begun to wither in the weeks since your departure.
And it would be far too cliché to say that my hope has begun to wither along with them.

I remember when we first began you were working nights
And I stayed up until five am sending you text messages, desperately fighting to stay up for you.
And until the very end I did the same.
I would fall asleep with my phone in my hand, waking only to reluctantly warn you of my impending slumber.
I miss the way you giggled when I told you about the funny things that happened at work.
I miss the way that you would listen to my rants, and offer anger on my behalf.

There was that last night.
You held me through the first movie, and kissed me through the second.
You held my hand as we walked to Tim Horton’s for tea.
You waited outside with my dog, (who always adored you.)
And you kissed me on the deck outside of my house.
You rubbed my back while I was sick,
And you would not accept my apologies for ruining our night.

I woke up that next morning hours before you.
My queen sized bed had somehow become too large for us, and we shared my half.
You held me tight and I listened to your light as air laughter,
And smiled when every time I moved a muscle you’d pull me closer.
I laid on my bedroom floor and ate honeydew and listened to you snore.
I read my book, and basked in the glory of waking up beside my favourite person.
And you slept a bit too late, but I forgave you and kissed you as you slipped off to the gym.

If someone had told me that would be the last time I’d hold you through the night,
I never would have believed it.
And then she stole you away.
I lost the game I didn’t know I was playing.

The person I have become is heavily dependant on caffeine.
She can’t watch movies where people are in love without crying.
She can’t form rational sentences when it’s 1:59 am and she knows all she needs to do is fall into a dream.
She can’t visit those places she ties to you because her heart is tied to her eyes, and sometimes tears flow.

I am okay with the fact that this hurts.
I am okay with the fact that I am changed because of you.
I am not okay knowing I have to hold all of this inside, or spill it across several word documents.
I’m not okay with the fact that you left without a goodbye.
I’m not okay knowing the last time we spoke was so irrelevant to everything.
I am so completely  distraught that spelling and punctuation have fallen away.
I am lost inside of everything I wanted us to be.
Of everything she’s taken away from me.

And there was once a time when my pillow cases were stained from your bronzer.
Where I would sleep on your pillow all the nights we were apart
Because your scent was so sweet it was impossible to sleep without it.
But now you’ve been washed away after so many spin cycles
It makes my head spin.
And the only stains that remain on my pillow case are the darkening memories of sweet kisses that tasted like me and tequila.
And my own makeup, as the wetness from my eyes makes it seep down my face.
And for the minute amount of hours my body lets me sleep, I sleep next to your ghost.

Your hair is darker now.
And there is more ink in my skin than there was before.
Time has passed, and leaves have started to change.
Soon the snow will fall as it always does.
And I will feign interest in the things I detest the most.
I will simulate feelings for another, of that I am sure.

The place we had shared so much laughter,
And so many awkward first kisses,
And so many more confident ones as the months wore on, is no longer my home.
The way you tasted has a way of enduring the time that’s stretched between our bodies.
And  I remember how you used to laugh first thing in the morning.
And I miss being the source of that laughter.

I remember hearing once on a foolish TV show how long it should take me to get over you.
I have this nagging feeling that you will run past the limit I will try to put on you;
Just as you stayed in my heart long past our expiration date.

I used to use awkward words like “indefinitely” because they had always made so much more sense to me.
I don’t want to think that these feelings will stretch on indefinitely.
I want to believe that I can eventually move past my grief.
And hours past the time I should have fallen asleep I find myself jotting down words about you while my dog snores too loudly beside me.

It’s going to be exceptionally hard for me to let this go,
Because I remember how hard it was to believe all of it in the first place.
And now that out short-lived reality has ended I find myself living in some twisted fairy-tale
All I was waiting for (naively) was our ride into the sunset.
All I got was a crushing blow from some Stephen King novel
Where things so out of the ordinary happen you wonder how you didn’t consider them in the first place.

I remember falling asleep outside that bar and you coming back for me,
Pulling me out of the snow and into your arms where I spent the night.
That bar is closed now, as so many things around our creation period have begun to shut down.
That night had been the most real thing that had happened to me in longer than I remember.
I remember the way you lingered in my mind for months after our first encounter
And how I was never really happy until our paths crossed in a (seemingly) more concrete way.

And now as the nights fall (earlier, and earlier) I find myself needing a sweater.
The pattern of my life had changed drastically
And you have made an empty echo in my heart,
One that I’m sure you’re too deaf to hear in your new city.

Its 2:36 am and I still haven’t stopped typing.
I want to sleep, and I want you to sleep next to me so for once I can fall into a deep slumber.
One that will allow me to awaken without the ghosts that have been chasing me since your departure.
I want you to fix the ruins that I’ve been living in,
Because I know that you are the only one who can mend the wounds you (and possibly I) have inflicted upon my not-so-strong self.

I listen to too much country music for someone who lives and breathes rock and roll.
And my poor guitar has seen more tears than she ever has.
My computer is full of playlists that are not doing their job.
No matter how many songs I find to fit the way I feel,
You linger.
And tonight was the first night I can remember really believing its fall,
And now I’m sipping apple cider, and reading all the books I wanted to curl up beside you with.
I think you missed the point where I decided you were the one.

I would say the feelings that you make me feel are complex and confusing,
But really they are so basic.
I miss you.
I want you.
I’m empty.
The simplicity of it is overwhelming.

It sickens me how much thought I let myself put into things.
I pictured us perched on fire escapes,
Potted plants surrounding the place we'd made into ‘home’.
You'd fill it with art because that's what's in your soul,
We'd fill it with books.
Selections of herbal teas would adorn the shelves of this borrowed place
And one day there were be a more permanent dwelling,
One we could really call our own.
Hidden away from the world as we both wish to be.
Watching every sunrise with my head against your shoulder,
Coffee in hand(caffeine has always been our common downfall)  
You would go running, and I'd wait for your return,
My hands stroking my keyboard in a familiar rhythm both of us had grown used to.

And we'd share with each other a new creation each night.
You’d read me poetry before bed,
And our laughter would bellow into the still night.
We'd flow together in that endless sort of way,
Bodies gliding against each other with the ease and comfort of home.
Because there was really no way I'd ever tire of you.  
  
I used to confidently tell people how I was the happiest person in the world.
Now I repeat that line and it's emptiness leaves a slow ache in my guts.
I'm waiting for you.
If anyone asks me, I deny my feelings
Because your rejection (however non-confrontational it was) stings badly on a person who doesn't usually feel.

I look at pictures of you and it's obvious to me the reasons why I love you.
It's that dimple,
Your smile,
The way your loud and musical laughter echoes in my head when I see something that reminds me of you.
They're so real even though it's been far too long since I've seen you.


And as the drinks pass through my lips
I hear my drunk self stammering your name.
I’m making a fool of myself, tears candidly falling from my eyes.
(such a fool you’ve made me)
My friends watch me in horror, terrified of this sick thing I've become.
And it makes me feel more than terrible to know that I'm worrying them.
They’re all so afraid for me, and the way I can’t seem to let go of the last few memories.
Everyone has become so worried for me.
And I’ve become so disenchanted from it all.

It's vicious what you gave me and how you turned around and took more than that away.
I've never felt quite this empty
The others before you took nothing of me when they left.
And you—you took it all;
Everything I once viewed as important.

Everyone talks about getting lost in someone
And I did That with her.
But with you I wasnt even a little bit lost.
I remember every detail of each day we spent together
(probably because I never felt like there was quite enough)

It seems now that the only thing I'm lost in is life and how to exclude you from it.
It's been an aching bunch of weeks since we’ve last spoken
But still today the first thing I thought of was telling you about my funny dream.
I still find myself with the urge to send you a message.
I picture us with all our guy friends, sitting down to sushi again.
(Cucumber avocado rolls were always both our favourite)
Even though one of them has moved across the country
And I’ve allowed myself to become so detached from everyone else.

Sometimes I catch myself wondering how it’s possible that you don’t think of me.
And how all those drunken nights,
Sushi dates,
Cuddle sessions and hikes with our dogs can just disappear into the recesses of your mind.
(Then again it's always easier to be the one who ran off with another than it is to be the one you ran away from.)

You like snails and I like sloths.
And I think it’s funny because the last thing we ever did was waste our time slowly.
I feel like we lived all of our months in the fast lane,
And I bit down on all the ridiculous words I wanted to tell you,
But love is something I’ve learned you should never keep tucked under your tongue.
And my voice is so lost now into this hollow thing that is my life,
That there is no way I could let out all things I was supposed to say.

Today at my job I filed away all of September’s paperwork into a box no one is ever going to see.
It's an aching reminder that time is passing even though it's not passing with you.
And the first frost will soon be upon us,
And you will curl up beside her.
But I have the pleasure of sleeping in a memory each and every night.
I remember the way your body fit mine.
And not once on any night we spent together did you let me go.