doomsday

five: after you

if I let you go, I don't know who I'll be anymore.

this is the fear I've spent months trying to avoid. in every therapist session, sorrowful midnight, and journal entry, it's like I can never bring myself to admit how truly deep it's cut through me.

because I know it's not your fault.

it was always unfair of me to love you for the idea of you and not the reality; so, really, who is to blame for all my broken pieces? 

the glory of young love blinded me, I guess. it's the only good excuse I can offer.

and yet, even with the blessing of hindsight, I still don't know who I am without our tragedy. 

I am so desperately clinging onto our beginning, our middle, our end even though I know it's wrong and you and I both deserve better but it's all I can do to keep myself from falling apart, my love.

because to let you go would be to let the best part of me go. 

that's the terrifying truth, darling. she's already slipping away.

I just don't know how to make anyone stay. 

I've sat through days in the sun grappling for the value of my life to slam into me and struggled for hours at my desk willing for the right words to come so your memory stays alive, but my heart and soul are still as hollow as the day I found out I wasn't worth it.

how do I find the girl who wants to be alive?

where do I pull out the part of me who's healed enough to move on?

does she even exist?

this is where I come undone every night on my balcony.

see, I don't know if I have anything left to give anymore. the prospect of someone new seems nothing more than a dream when I've built my entire identity around being yours.

it's self-destructive, I know. but I don't want to love anyone else.

because I don't know who I am without you.

so, tell me you'll continue to haunt my dreams. it's all I have left. 

and promise me you'll still whisper those pretty little lies, and I'll whisper them right back.

I love you, in this lifetime and the next.

there isn't anybody in the world I'd rather have ruin me.