Adios my sweet

A moment of clarity while rooted to my desk, to my screen, to my endless thoughts.

My brain wanted to know what was right and what was wrong and fuck if I ever need to remember to trust myself!

Was I right was I right not to fight for her?

Is it enough to miss her skin and her hair and her little face because I do.

Enough?

We were actors in a play.

We even had a script about a script.

We had a bond to a certain degree, respect, sweetness…

And yet…

No depth.

I couldn’t reach her nor know if there was anything to reach.

How hard I have tried to find the words that encapsulate this sense. She couldn’t…go there, with me.  Everything literal, everything black and white and I am so many greys.

Many grey moments today but it’s okay only light grey now I’m writing.

She was sharp monochrome.  I remember her now. So neat, so unadorned, so clean and so stable. For me at the time, after months of highs and lows the flatness soothed me, the gentle hum of the little things, predictable and sweet.

Where is the line between emotional stability and flatlining?

Her line is in a different place from mine is all.  She expects life to be lived on a different frequency from me

I have a wider emotional, spiritual, metaphysical…range?  I cannot occupy only her range all the time, while she is disturbed when I leave it.

The only thing I ever saw bring her joy and a sparkle to her eyes was children.  Her nephews, she loves them so much.  The idea of creating a family of her own is an intrinsic part of her being and I hope she finds her family, whatever form it will take.

She was always so hard to buy for.  ‘What do you LIKE?’

I couldn’t present her with a child.

Tonight while rooted to my desk by my fears and the fact that I miss her skin I imagined a conversation where I had fought harder:

‘I really think we have something worth working for here; I think we could have a future together and we could be happy.  I want to work towards that’

I would have been lying.

I would again have been reciting a script because that is what you DO…you try.

She said the same many times.

But she didn’t fight either, in the end.

– FIN –

 

 

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