Day One

I won’t send this. At least not now. I need to give you what you want and remove myself from your life, even if I am struggling to remove you from mine.

Truth is, it doesn’t matter what you’ve not told me ... it doesn’t matter what you have told me ... I’m still going to wake up every day and hope I hear from you.

I miss the gentle tone in your voice. All I’ve heard for a month is anger, hurt, and insult. From sullen to rage, accusatory to cruel. Echoing into my heart, your words hallowing out my spirit and breaking my soul in half.

I ache to hear you find the words to undo all this hurt. You’ve done it before... a few times actually... and I’ve always listened. I’ve always accepted your new beginnings. I’ve always responded with acceptance and love.

Will this time be different? Will it take longer? Will it never come? My heart tells me to hold on, be patient, and whisper I love you to the moon who watches over both of us at night. Maybe the universe does love a stubborn heart, but what if yours is more stubborn than mine? Will it pull you farther away?

Yesterday day we spoke. You yelled. Dismissed me. Rejected and insulted every one of my efforts over the past several weeks to reach you and inspire a better outcome. The answers to my questions feel like riddles, yet twice you’ve mentioned meeting someone new while all I’ve done is declare unconditional love for only you.

Your belongings are in a tote. I’m certain you’ve already discarded mine. How long shall I stare at this vessel of memories filled with the scent of your cologne? Another week? A month? More? It’s all I have left to hold onto. I fear once it’s gone, all my hope will be packed inside, too.

No, I won’t send this. Not today. Maybe not ever. My words only anger you and my feelings disgust you. The rage in your voice and simplicity in ignoring my pleas comes so easy for you now. Love no longer lives inside you. It has left your eyes.

I will need to pace myself. One day. Two days. Three days. Once the fourth day comes, my heart aches beyond words and I desperately try to unveil a new idea or reason to reach out.

But not this time. I cannot.

Tomorrow will be my day one. Again.

Day one without messaging you.

Day one of no app to reach you.

Day one to breathe in the cold silence without allowing myself to anticipate warmth.

Day one of loosening the ties of my parasitic grasp of hope.

Day one of stepping away from you, rather than around you.

Day one of accepting you no longer love me, want me, or remember me.

Day one of accepting you’ve already moved on .... already anticipating someone new rather than a renewal with me.

Day one of many to come ... until I lose count... and then I will accept all these same things for myself in regards to you.

Day one.