“Close your eyes and tell me where you see yourself in 5 years,” I asked. He lowered his head and relieved his frustration with a long, drawn out sigh. He fought his ill intent, I fought my evident tears. What had happened to such a beautiful us, we discussed, the hours were dragging on as he dragged me so carelessly along. He wanted out, and I knew. The words escaped him for a brief moment, I presumed, as he opened his mouth and so very still became the room; “You are not who I once loved,” he said, “I’m sorry to say, I’ve outgrown you. Your pettiness, your insecure heart, mind, soul, it all pains me; you are the death of us. I have dealt with your sadness; your ache, I have since felt, and continue to feel. I’ve had enough. Here’s your reason. Here’s your ******* closure.” I clutched his wrist tightly and my chest even tighter before he could detach himself for good, and, I tell you, the air eluding my lungs had actually sped up the beating of that ever-weary heart of mine, and the color had to be leaving my grief-stricken face as the expression of his was now a bit concerning, less demeaning, and my world, it was turning, violently, now black from the outside in. He said it, my fears conveyed in the utterance of such hurtful terms. He was so wrong, I was so loving, and I had been screaming inside for months now and the shrill echo had finally made it’s way to my throat, my small voice now belted, “You have wronged me, and I have loved you. You have lied, you have cheated, you have robbed me of a healthy love, you are not what it’s meant to be. I loved you with the utmost compassion I had to offer; I am troubled, I know, and I am trying. You will never see me grow, my potential, you will miss. In all sincerity, good luck to you in your new endeavor, for a lover, a heart to call home, who will hold you when you’re feeling lost and cry with you when you are spent; someone who will care for your tattered mind in the most tender of ways, forever and again. What you had in me was rare, and I hope to God you can find it out there, once more. So, this is it, 4 long years under my breath. I cared for the depths of your very being and it was exhausting. I am running on empty, here’s the ending you wanted; our story is being unwritten, I will erase and erase as I no longer desire you. This, this is my ******* closure.” I left my skin, my frame, I was floating, it was over. It was raining, I moved slower. Now, onto better things.
I always seem to write prose poetry... sorry about the length.
