I didnt want to talk about it.

it hung there in its ominous entirety devoid of explaination

the sickening welt in my gut peircing the truth into realisation

it is something that could not be unseen, unheard.

as you finally grasped its magnitude gaping wide open incredulously at the shape of it

I looked away.

I blame you.

but I never said a word.

I remember the way you used to look at me, your laugh even when what I said wasn't ever really that funny. You looked at me as if I had something, something that you could never grasp, But something you were desperate to reach.

You told me countless times you wanted to have me forever and that I was the only one you'd ever love. And like every other stupid and young girl in the world at some point in her life, I told you the same thing back without delay...and meant it.

But I look back now on what was and wonder if it was ever really me that you wanted.  And I wonder what exactly you were planning to love till the end of your life.
It's funny, I was not planning to change my mind but apparently you were.

It's been 17 months and the run-ins with the family are shorter. The awkward hellos are avoided. The smell of you on your many shirts and sweatshirts is gone. The texts that reek desperation and regret have stopped.  You not-so-simply aren't what you were a year and a half ago.

'M'... And there it is, the countless amount of times I've typed in your name to get a glimpse of your life from the outside now leaves me crippled because I only have to type one letter for it all come flooding back.

The nights spent crying, the days I've spent wondering, the lyrics, the poems, the books I've spent time analyzing and the dreams from which I've woken up from where the faint but so real sound of your voice says "I'm ready to try again." Though these are all things that I thought would push me to death, I thank you.

These are times in which I found hope in hopelessness. Because as great as it was and as much as I wanted you back. I know now there's so much more out there, so much you lacked.

If suffering was what it took to find what was meant to be. Put me through the seering pain a thousand times over again because I know I can finally breathe and be truly happy.

Sure, the hurt comes back to sting here and there, but I know now my hope is found in someone even greater than you or I are truly aware.