Thursday

It's another glorious spring morning, and I find myself struggling to find the beauty in it. I fear I'm engulfed in one of my "spells" again; I fear I won't be able to handle it this time. I know, it's not fair to you, nor I, nor us. I'm confused all the time. I can't read, I can't write, I can't think. I just wanted you to know that you brought all the happiness in my life. No one else could've made it better.
I know that I'm ruining your life. I know that this will devastate you. I know that you'll blame yourself. But I also know that, eventually, you will recover. You will. You have to.
I'd like you to remember me as I was, before all the terribleness. Remember me at the dock in San Diego, when you grabbed my hand and we fell into the ocean like a fever, or a daydream. Remember me when I dropped the turkey in front of everyone on Thanksgiving; when I laughed it off but you knew, and later you held me as I cried silently in the hallway. Remember me as a time of day, when the sun rests at it's highest and you trust it to never go away.
Not all experiences are meant for everyone. I gave it all I had. I gave you all I had. You were "it". You are it. It's not that I'm afraid I'm not good enough. I know I never was.
Loving me is like loving a house on fire. Leave me behind. I want to remember this as love, not lost.