Fading Out

WEDNESDAY

You've already had too much burden to live with. I was determined to help you. I meant well the entire ride, and for a while it worked out. Your one second of solitude in the morning before everything bad sunk in eventually became eight, and then thirty, a minute, an hour, until it would only slip in at unexpected times here and there.

It got easier to put on your best face when you faced the world. You faked a smile and played pretend until you didn't have to anymore. Until brushing pain aside didn't have to be done anymore, and you overcome it all. Every obstacle, you got over it.

You were stronger than every day that felt rainy when there wasn't a grey cloud in the sky. You felt more at home at rock bottom than you did at the surface of the ocean, but you did what you could to belong in a happier place, no matter how numb your heart went.

And that's horrifying to think back to, even for me, when I wasn't in your shoes myself. I did what I could to make it to when you felt good with me and felt like you should stay, and then when this comes up, part of me wishes that I was easier to leave, for your own sake. I feel bad if you're going to miss me and I feel bad that you'll wear my clothes to sleep and expect my name in your notifications when I won't be able to do that anymore.

I'm scared for the times that could come up that I won't be around for. The times you'll hear a new song on the radio and you'll turn to an empty space I used to be in because you know that I would've liked it. That maybe I would've sang it to you. You'll be hit at random times, and you'll end up avoiding things that remind you of me, so you don't have to think about how it ended.

Maybe you'll write letters to me that won't have any address to be sent to. You liked to do things like that before. You said you thought better on paper than in verbal speech, but when that's done and over with, and you're overwhelmed you'll push away the red lipstick that I would badly put on you, missing your lips entirely.

Out of the blue, you're wishing you were with me more than you did before because then, even in separate beds, you knew I was okay, but in that case, I'm entirely gone. You'll miss how our hands fit perfectly in one another's and you'll miss how the phone would dial when I called your number, a ring tone set specifically for me. A ring tone that made you drop whatever craft you were up to and pick up your phone.

In any other scenario, I'd love to feel like I was missed, loved, cared for, treasured, but in this one, I feel ashamed to have made you missed me this badly, in a way without solution. Without hope, without future expectation possible.

I'm not going to give up yet, but if I have to, promise me this; let yourself hurt from the very beginning. Don't bottle it up. Let the world knock you down, burn you, chew you up and spit you out. You'll be able to move on faster. You'll be able to get back to the you that you truly are. It might be hard, but it's what you'll need to do.

Promise me that you'll let yourself be okay eventually. Promise me you won't miss me for too long. Promise me that you'll remember that you're the smart one, the strong one, the confident one, and that you can do anything.

Even in a world that seems it's turned itself upside down.

THURSDAY

I found my way. Far earlier than most people do, in fact, and I think I'm allowed to be proud of myself for that. Considering that there are so many things we can do and say out of their own freewill, I didn't do so bad. What sucks is that I genuinely think that with your guidance I could've been meant for more.

I was definitely on my way there, don't you think? I learned exactly who I am and what I want in life and when it comes down to it, I can't even reach the stars I should've been able to reach. My wings are breaking down. I can hardly walk. In what world would I be able to fly?

Sure, maybe one day. Maybe, but not right now. Right now I'm not amounting to very much of anything.

It'd be nice if this went in any other direction than the one it went in. Where I can take who I am and what I've come to know and love about myself thanks to you and finally take chances. To find a place --a real place-- for me in this world.

But I'm here, fragile, and I'd be considered successful if I were able to forget what pain is and forget what emptiness is. I'd be considered successful if I can put my head up in happiness. Up above the clouds, up to the heavens, when my feet aren't even able to stand physically on the earth. I'm considered successful if I'm able to tell myself that the gloomy days these are will lead to something good soon enough if I just hold on.

I have a totally new definition of a good day. It means learning to be strong and faking it to create a couple more seconds. To be thankful for everything I'm being granted even if I'm capable of nothing. To be thankful for the tiniest of improvements.

And I don't think I'm seeing any of that. All I keep seeing are these snippets of you that feel so legit, like they're part of the future. You're sitting outside, on your porch, and after a shaky gasp, your phone slipped out of your hand. I didn't have to know what the words on the other land of the line were. I just knew.

I just knew this was your reaction to finding out I was dead.

You're not going to understand this right now. It hasn't come to that point and you don't want it to. I don't either, but that's why you can't process getting to that point. I know it's hard to see yourself without me after the years we've had. I know you're feeling your heart break, because I feel it too.

Some things just have to hurt, my love, and I'll apologize for that for as long as I can. You might have to let go to be able to do you, no matter how much it breaks you down. It's that goodbye that will help you move on.

You'll find something better. Blue skies, green valleys up there in the distance waiting for you and only you, telling you to leave the pain and the hurt behind. Telling you that life doesn't have to be bittersweet for too long. It can be sweet entirely.

Time will heal all your wounds before long.

I know you. You'll be okay.

Whatever happens.

FRIDAY

I'm all over the place recently and I don't really know what to do about it. I justify myself by saying that it's because it's an adjustment to get used to new ideas. The fact that we've went years with your name coming right after mine when people talked about us, spoken of as an item. The fact that when they thought of me, they thought of you.

And how it won't be that way forever. How nothing will ever be the same.

We won't be the life of the party one day. We didn't used to be, but when we found each other this confidence clicked in us that made it be and it felt so right. So fun and worth going to. We won't be the pair that people will look at and wish they were, and we won't be the couple that made everyone believe in love again.

We will be the reason for long awkward pauses when they can't think up of something consoling to say when they hear the reality. They'll even tell themselves that they hurt for you, that they want us back more than we could, but you'd know very well that that wasn't true. That the feeling in your trampled heart is going to last much longer than the others who will move on tomorrow.

While they erase memories and dimmed the bright lights, you won't be able to. Not quite so fast. Soon enough you'll be exhausted over the question 'how are you' and how the simple greeting flip flopped to carry so much weight. You'll be tired over deciding whether they actually care about what you miss or if they're just trying to be polite and you'll be tired over concealing the pain within yourself.

The happy, relaxing Friday nights won't be what they once were, even if you spend your time around the same people and the same place, beneath the flickering light that the owner hasn't switched out, and that was still holding on longer than I could. You might think to yourself, why does this place feel different than it used to? even though you know why and just don't want to bring it to mind.

I'm sorry that your nights out will take a turn. That there won't be anything to talk about and nothing but tension to take it over. I'm sorry that the clashes of your glasses will bring toasts that don't feel as celebratory. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to treat you like the royalty you are until the end of your life. I'm sorry that I swept you off your feet only momentarily and that everything we've been through is going to turn into one big fever dream.

It's a shame to end up fire and gasoline, to end up someone bad for you. I hate myself for having to bring you tears and sorrow, whenever it is that it happens.

But I can assure you of this much, if it counts.

I'm going to love you like there's no tomorrow.

SATURDAY

In another life, you would have gotten my heart and you'd be able to keep it forever. I'd be able to stay and you wouldn't be wasting your time on memories that we couldn't draw out. When your admirable self pulled me in and fixed the bad shape and chaotic mess that I was in, we'll celebrate that high and get ourselves through far different kinds of lows than the one we're going through now.

But this isn't another life. As much as I want to sit you down in front or me, my hands on your shoulders and stare into your eyes with promises that I can fulfill and as much as I want to kiss you gently, I don't think I could've let you get into this if I would've known ahead of time.

Our moments were splendid, and I would go out as much to say they were perfect, but hurting you would never be worth it. If I knew about this beforehand, I would've had to warn you to keep your distance. I would have to make sure that if we ever crossed paths, in whatever way it may be, that it would be foolish to follow through and that it would be smarter not to wait for me. It would be smartest if you left before either one of us got the chance.

I don't know if I believe in soulmates. I've heard so many weird theories with red string and impossible tropes in romantic novels, but even if it were possible to pass by each other from the top, all over again, and even if somehow the world told us we were meant to be, we would've had to fought hard to keep our space if we already know the ending.

I know that's probably not what you want to hear, but it would be for the best, wouldn't you agree? If I'm going to end up like this regardless of what I try to change or improve, sure, I can say the memories will be more valuable than any kind of pain on my end of it, but I will never do anything that could harm you for a second.

It'd be best if you didn't know I existed in the first place than to be hurt because of me. I should've never let us be foolish. I should've never let you fall in love with me. I should've known that one day you'd find somebody who could stand by you through thick and thin, rather than be the very problem like I am. You'd find someone that will really, really be there for you.

I don't want it to be this way. I love you and I meant that every time I said it and in every moment of silence and of rambles. I want to be there for you, but this agony I'm causing you, it hurts me more to allow myself to ever do it to you again, if it even were possible. I'm sorry that this is how it has to end, but it's how it has to be.

Hopefully one day you'll understand.

In the meantime, know that in every second of my closed eyes, I dreamed of you and what it's been like to love you. What it would be like if I got the chance to go on with it longer. At morning, at night, at peace, at dispute, and in everything in between its always been you.

In my dreams, I believe in us. The future us that we looked forward to.

But don't cry too much for me.

I'm not worth your tears.