while im jakin off
after the jackin
The last time he was here, with his bathtub flooded with warm water. Drinks spilled right beside him. Thoughts flooded with memories of who she used to be. It is March 4th and the last time he was here, was the night after Thanksgiving. Doors open, and then they close just as quickly. Never enough time to bring everything through the door as a whole. The rest of him. He remembers everything.. or at least everything that matters. The long nights full of misery that lacked her presence followed by apologies. Followed by promises of being here forever. Followed by “I love you.” It must have been sometime in January. He remembers all the goodbyes and how they never really meant the end. It’s funny that now goodbye seems as close as it has ever been, yet neither one of them said it. He remembers that message, the night on Valentine’s day. The plea to return. Every word engraved into his brain. How all those words summed up into a few, said “I love you and I miss you.” Oh how lonely she must have been. How naive I am. As a child, I was lied to. I’ve come to learn on my own that always being there for someone can sometimes be taken for granted. I never let her miss me but how is that my fault if I just wanted her to know she wasn’t alone.. Everyone has fears but she doesn’t have to. I wanted to save her so bad, I didn’t realize I was destroying myself in doing so. This is no longer about me, but who I was. Who we were and everything we’ve become. All the memories have become dreams in my sleep that sometimes I wonder if she even existed at all. Am I holding onto nothing? The last time he was here.. he was alive. He wasn’t happy, but he had hope. Hope that he’ll survive. He had hope and he knew it or.. or maybe he was just drunk.. Drunk off the idea that hope and love, would be enough to prosper.