Tonight, I write.

07 April 2017

Tonight, I write.

Not of love. 

Not of pain.

Tonight, I write.

Of the in between.

You see, there isn’t a fine line that separates the two.

They blend together like a hurricane,

a tornado…above the ocean.

That I’m avoiding.

Because I sat above it that night, with you,

before my heart tore apart its thickest muscle.

For the 14th time.

For you. By you.

Out of 21…weeks.

After all, the bandaids you showered me could only cover an infected wound.

Not heal it.

Tonight I write, 

to drain out this fantasy in my head, 

where you walk back into my life.

Tonight I write to abort this unrealistic mission,

without any exceptions.

There’s no room for any more narratives or tears 

to be soaked into these rusty pages.

Tonight I write for the last time about you,

because today I realized the purpose you brought to me...

To believe in actions.

To believe in the power of words.

To pay attention the first time,

not the outdated, 21st.

You brought light to my self-respect,

to not chase what is unfulfilling. 

I am no one to fix a shattered dream.

I’m one to add onto a masterpiece under construction, 

a masterpiece….because she is learning to master love.

And beauty and peace…within herself.

And, I will learn to master these with her…

Because we are both just masterpieces, under construction,

striving for fulfillment…within ourselves.

Tonight, I say goodbye

to you.

Like I mean it.

After all, this time...I do.