I'm choking on my words and they swallow like bile, like acid burns all the way down into my abdomen. I have to say goodbye, push you away because I am no good, I am broken and bruised, an over ripe fruit who is only worth the compost she can become. I don't want to, the words haven't left my throat and I already miss what we had, I feel the gap in my chest like open wound, like empty airless space has entered the void of me. Not even its stars can warm what is left of me.
I am sorry. I don't know how else to say this. I am so sorry that you ever felt the burden of loving a wreck like me. For a time I believed I could have been more than this, that maybe I had phenix bones and I could make worth in the ashes of this. All I got was burning. In the hardest way I learned that I am human and nothing more can come from this. In part I blame you. You made me - make me - feel as though there is more to this than the story I am reading. The problem here is that I have always been bad at context clues and the words are beginning to fade wth age anyway. Its immoral to blame you for my humanity but it hurts more if I acknowledge that you are better than anything I will ever deserve.
If it hurts less I want you to hate me. Hate everything I allow myself to become when I take on the monster in my mind. Know that none of that means I will learn to not love you. I just can't be strong enough in that love to be present when it all falls apart around me. You should keep the happy memories, never learn the skeletons that haunt the empty walls of this closet heart.
I wish I could be worthy of your love, but I know now that I will never be good for you.