if today is a gift, just take it back

I'm pretty bad about forgetting things that I want to. I cling pretty strongly to memories, and I'm always hit with a pang of sadness when I can't remember some detail of one -- whether it was a good memory or not. They make excellent material for poetry and prose, so perhaps that stems from just being an artist. I consider myself, to quote Jami, a creature of the moment. But if I were to chose from the other two options, I find myself dwelling on the past much more than the future. And more often than not, it's detrimental to my current mood. Sure, there's some positive reminiscing, but inevitably I face the reality that it's gone. Forever.

Is that why it was so hard to handle a long-distance relationship? In that situation, you can't always live happily in the moment -- at any given moment you are, quite frankly, alone. The person whose very name you cherish and smile you revere like a miracle just for you... hundreds and hundreds of miles away. All you really have is remembering the past and looking forward to a future.

Hmm.

It's starting to make a lot more sense.



Focusing on life day by day stings when you do it alone. Facing a rough past only rubs salt into the open wound -- what else is a good boyfriend to do but steer their lover away from that? I am thankful and I still do not want to look back. But why'd he have to go and take my future, too?

"You are the reason I get up in the morning," he would always say, "you make everything worth it."

And so even though I didn't have blueprints and every attempt I ever made to inquire about anything beyond now was shot down instantly, I let myself believe that there was some sort of future, some sort of hope.

It was only a matter of time before I couldn't stand those empty fucking walls he put up every night to keep me away. Only a matter of time, darling. I remember that I could hear my chest give way at the words I knew -- oh Lord, I knew -- were coming.

"Just plan without me."

Selfish prick.

Selfish, selfish prick.

(why the hell did I defend you every time someone said "that's pretty harsh"?

he was stressed i just sprung it on him things have been hard it was sudden don't worry it was okay it is okay

No. It wasn't fucking okay.

"you just don't say that to someone you care about. and someone you say you love? i don't know, that's pretty cold.")

How could you be so insensitive?

I can accept that you can't commit any more than on a day-by-day basis. Honestly, I've known that about. I believe that I've been extremely patient in this even though it hurts and I've misinterpreted and internalized it (who am I kidding? I still think that at times). I know that one day you're overwhelmed with love and feel like you couldn't ever possibly express it, then the next day you're more interested in the television screen. I understand that's just who you are. I know you feel like you can't offer anything. But couldn't you reach out of your comfort zone a bit for me? Work with me? Give me a sign at least? Offer me any sort of reassurance? Offer me possibilities, no matter how ridiculous or no matter how vague and incomplete?

("it's gonna be okay, baby."

"what is?"

"...everything.")

Just give me a sign? Remind me that all this waiting has not been in vain? Remind me that even though it's possible that a bus could strike and kill you that doesn't keep you from walking out the door every morning?

("no, that's not going to happen."

"but how do you know?"

"'cause i'm not gonna let it happen. i

love you too much to let it happen.")

Give me a sign? Tell me you're uncomfortable and need a little more time to think about it? Tell me you haven't been okay lately and hold my hand until this rough patch is over?

("don't worry. we're gonna get
through this. i promise.")

Just don't tell me you can't see anything -- even regardless of me, just see (or hope or wish for or want) anything in general -- beyond today. Don't be a coward, refusing to grow up. Quit running from what you're uncomfortable with. Man up. No one's asking for prophecy, honey. Instead of trying to get past this fear, instead of trying to work with the person to whom you've devoted the last two years of your life in order to get out of this rut you were both in, you put up the shovel and left her to dig her own grave.

All I ever wanted was a place in your life.