invisible

does he actually see you? 

does he listen to you? 

or is the role you're expected to play one of total invisibility? 

day 5. prelude to the end(?)

spent the day in turmoil.

graced with clarity last night, i'm no longer sure if i want this.

i never thought i'd feel the way i do about you now - a combination of love, pain and indifference. no anger, just a sense of farewell.

this could really be one of the last times i write you.

day 4. prelude to the end(?)

they're right, it does get easier.

day 3. prelude to the end(?)

what's yours will find you

baby

it seems effortless for you. you make it look so easy. how do you do it? 

everything i ate tasted like rubber, my feet carried me absentmindedly but i found a renewed focus in all the things i did - i wrote with a single-focused, i fixed my workflow, i studied, i worked out really hard and i crashed. 

i also found the time to be present, i talked (a lot) and i found comfort in a long shower. my joy finds my slowly, in the planning - i read up on melbourne and sydney, for when if we ever make it. i could see it, and then i couldn't. 

i got angry at you today; for intentionally choosing something over us. i didn't understand why you gave me grief for doing it before; but today i feel the pain of having become an alternative. it's not something i want to be accustomed to. and just as quickly as it comes, i find the grace to put it aside. i find grace to move on. 

i don't want to acknowledge this, but i'm getting used to your absence. i don't know if i want this as much as i thought i did. 

because it's possible to love someone so much and consider leaving them even more. 

day 2. prelude to the end(?)

"i can't hold enough of you in my hands" - franz kafka

baby

we had a date today, but you didn't make it.

i woke up this morning feeling okay, having slept better - knowing i'll be okay; feeling all the parts of my body like it belongs to me again.

i did really well today on the wall baby, i firmed up my friendship with a reconnected friend, powered through my to-do list, studied hard for mandarin and cantonese, read more. i was very present and i enjoyed all of today.

i wish you made it.

but you were there though, in the brief moments between finishing a climb, taking off my shoes, perusing the aisles in the pharmacy, deciding on a book to read, in the middle of my conversations - you were there. and i wish you weren't.

i almost didn't make it through today. out of habit, out of want, out of sadness, i wanted so badly to reach out to you. to say something, to remind myself that you're still here; that you're still in my life.

in the silence, your absence - what a void. what emptiness. this separation, it isn't firmed - but it feels like it. my heart is in anticipation of this pain. i guess, this is what having to slowly give you up feels like.

day 1. prelude to the end(?)

"you have a place in my heart no one else ever could have - f. scott fitzgerald 

baby,

i'm so sorry. i'm so so so sorry. i don't know what else to say.

i miss you. i can't remember the time before you occupied that special place in my heart. i can't imagine a time where you won't.

i'm so sorry.

i didn't think of you much tonight, fought so hard to put you out of my mind. it worked, partially - everyone was asking your whereabouts. i didn't feel like talking, so i sat outside and smoked a lot.

everything went still afterwards, i laughed a lot, my mind blank and my heart quiet. i'm reminded of how lonely i was feeling while with you.

i left early, but it was late. crawled into bed without a further thought of you.

i'm tired baby. you are the love of my life, you're who i want to be a partner to, the one i want to love my children with, spend my years with, curl up against. your tears are the ones i want to kiss away. your hand on my heart.

why does holding on feel like it could be both the most beautiful and equally painful thing in my life.