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Happy Without Me

Happy Without Me

I’m scared

That you will like him

More than you ever liked me

That he will see your beauty want to win you over

Just like how I felt

When I first heard your voice

In a way,

I’m glad that I feel the anger and desperation

That it makes me feel the passion again

Want you to be mine

But I remember another time

When I felt like I was left behind for someone better

That I felt not good enough

And I wonder if you would like someone new

Like the first bite of an apple

Before the taste grows boring in your mouth

Sometimes I’m confused

Whether I’m pushing or pulling

Like the dream I had about you sitting next to me on a train

Your curls framing your face

So warm

Even with the beautiful view outside

I only had eyes for you

And the morning when I wondered what it would be like

To treat dating like another adventure

A new face every day

A new smile

Do you ever wonder the same?

Have you already felt so?

Did you wonder today?

When forget to ask me

If I still felt sick

 

This poem is about the painful feeling of desperation and jealousy when you are not always the center of someone’s world. Beyond the feeling is the passion you feel when you remember how desirable someone is.

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Water In the Basement

Water in the Basement

There was water in the basement today

My mom handed me a garbage bag

To throw away things

That we couldn’t wash

The saddest thing

Was a cardboard sculpture of myself

Because I knew

It was sodden and sad

Paper hair plastered on the side

Like a sad version of a bad hair day

I remembered when it was new

When my art professor told us about Chris Gilmour

The sculptor who used cardboard instead of stone

Intricate cars and motorcyles

Precisely detailed in warm brown

And gave us the assignment to create a sculpture of ourselves

But my sculpture

Wasn’t like Gilmour’s at all

It was all messy cardboard

Hot glued together

It didn’t look like me

But it felt like me

When I looked into the eyes

I remembered the way I felt

My mind was all stars and night and imagination

Some part of me

Is afraid to let it go

It’s a familiar sad feeling

Like what I felt when I let go of the girl I loved

Only

This time

The person I’m letting go of

Is the person

Who made the sculpture

Years ago

When I look at this sculpture that I made in wood and mixed media class, I remember what I felt in college. So young and full of promise. That I could be anything, do anything. That I didn’t have to think about the rest of my life. Part of me always wants to go back. And it is hard to admit that that part of my life is over.

I think about this when I wait for nighttime. It is nighttime when I will see how things are going to unfold. I hope she will show me her vulnerable side, her emotional side again. The parts of her that I knew I needed in my life when I first met her. But I know, I cannot force her to be that person for me. That there is a possibility, that she won’t. That she will be closed and I’m so sad that I may have to say goodbye to the person I was when I was in love with her.

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In The Wreckage

In The Wreckage

As I sit in the wreckage of my life

The pieces, strewn about the floor around my feet

I wonder

Has she read my messages

Does she now know

That it was all a misunderstanding

And that only by leaving

Did I finally draw out the truth

That could have prevented everything

I wonder what will happen next

And how I can stand up again

When all I want to do

Is lie on the ground

Curled up

Like a hibernating bear

Waiting for the summer

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Even If She Wanted Me Back

Even If She Wanted Me Back

Even if she wanted me back

I wonder

Will it be like before

No secrets between us

No unspoken words

Or will I feel like I’m on a sinking ship

The water at my chest

Threatening to drown me

The words she used to hurt me

Only hurt

Because I trusted her enough

To expose my naked heart

I know if she asks

I will try to open my heart again

But I worry

That invisible locks

Have already formed

To protect me

And she doesn’t have the willpower

To find the keys

 

I am scared knowing that the amount of pain between us may be too much to overcome. Pain is always an invitation for growth, but how much is someone willing to grow? I worry sometimes I made a huge mistake. I did it because of the feeling that it was over already. That staying would have been just trying to push along a dream, squeeze out the last bit of real connection that we had. I felt that I had to try to give things enough space for perspective. I wonder sometimes if she even has the capability to feel the love I felt for her. Whether it was just an obsession for her, when it was love for me.

I’m Not Ashamed That I Loved Her

She told me that I would have been ashamed to tell my family or my therapist. But it wasn’t true. It wasn’t true because I would have explained that I loved her.

I loved her when she told me that when I left she cried for so long she threw up. I knew then she must have seen something special in me just like I saw something special in her.

I loved her when she made me laugh and smile at the stupidest things. I loved her when we would banter back and forth with insults.

I loved her when she told me that I needed to tell her when I got to my hotel late in California because she was scared she would lose me.

I loved her when she sent me a playlist of songs, beautiful songs, handpicked by her.

I loved her when she tried. Even when I made her uncomfortable. Even when I was mad at her.

I loved her when she was tired and would open up about the things in her life that troubled her. Things about her family. Things about her life.

I loved her when she told me she read my blog every morning.

I loved her when I was needy. So annoyingly needy,  but she was nothing but caring and reassuring.

I loved her when she would ask me why I was ignoring her, if I was driving and couldn’t respond right away.

I loved her when I came back from a meeting and would find so many messages from her, like gifts waiting to be opened.

I loved her when we used to talk on the phone for hours, and it never felt longer than a few minutes.

I loved her intelligence, her passion, her humor, her taste in music, her compassion and warmth, her emotions, her feminine side. She understood everything I said to her. Whether it was a dumb joke or my life philosophy. She had a deep emotional intelligence. She knew when she was avoiding the truth and what the truth was. She was immature at times. She gave up easily. She was self-destructive. She preferred to avoid her problems instead of dealing with them. She liked distractions. She was vindictive when she was angry. She liked to cry. She was embarrassed easily. I loved her for all of that.

 

She tells me now everything was a lie. What a beautiful lie to love.

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And I Didn’t Cry

And I Didn’t Cry

It was on my run that I decided, I needed to leave

Dread in my heart

Peace in my head

And I didn’t cry

I told her shortly after

Fear in my head

Anxiety in my stomach

And I didn’t cry

I saw the message she sent me

Pain in my soul

Shame on skin

And I didn’t cry

Tonight I told a council of kings

Of a girl I loved

Too young

Too far

Too virtual

I told them I knew it was still special

I told them that I knew she gave up

I told them that I knew I had let go

That I cannot fix or change someone

Just because I need them

I knew it was the right thing to do

And finally

I cried

 

Tonight was a transformative experience for me. I sobbed today like I haven’t in years. It’s as if the pain, the shame, and the fear were just holding everything back. When I let go, all I felt was sad. I felt relieved, at peace, but so sad I cried for a long time.

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Her Anger Like A Fire

Her Anger Like Fire

I felt her anger like fire

Burning in my face

Searing like acid

Felt the heat of it

Within her body

But all I could think of

Was the weight of the cold stones filling my heart

While I wondered

What happens

When love

Gives up

 

I realized something today. Sometimes when you love someone so much, you can’t give them space. Love needs space to grow, absence to remind you what it is made of. Sometimes, if you really love someone, you have to let them go. Even if it means they may never come back.

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I Wonder If I Ever Meant Anything

I Wonder If I Ever Meant Anything

I wonder if her words had any weight

Like sturdy old fashioned railcars laden with

Golden promise

Or if they were as ephemeral and false

Like the carcass of a shattered plate

Once with pleasing curves

And a sureness

Like that of unspoken feelings

I wonder now

If I imagined it all

And the distance was an ocean

That I mistook

For a puddle

 

A Penny From The Top of The Empire State Building

They say, that an oridinary penny

Dropped from the top of the empire state building

Will cut a hole through the concrete sidewalk below

The penny is in me now

Burning a hole

Through the bottom of my heart

 

These poems are about the fear that there was never a real connection, that I made it up in my own mind. I wonder if there was even the possibility of love, or if I was simply deluding myself.

I wonder what I wasn’t able to give her. Was I not attractive enough? Not fun enough? Did I not give her enough space?

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Poem Draft and Other Thoughts

Moth Dust

I had a dream she messaged me
All caps and smiling letters
Like old times
When I was a boy
My friend showed me a bush
Full of moths
He grabbed one and showed me the dust that came off its wings
I wondered
If the moth
Like me
Felt something missing

 

Besides the poem, I also came up with a HUGE epiphany that suddenly makes everything clear. I realized that the main reason I’m so upset is that something that I thought was a friendship was much closer to a relationship than I would admit. The cycle I’m dealing with is less of a troubled friendship but rather a single>relationship>breakup>single cycle instead.

In order to move on, I need to start thinking like someone who is single who is getting over a breakup. It’s a bit embarrassing we weren’t actually in a relationship, but who cares about stupid commitments and labels. The feelings I had were far beyond friendship and the fact that they were reciprocated made it something more.

This also gives me insight into how I behave in a relationship, I’ll break it up into two categories, single mindset and relationship mindset.

My Mindset When Single
  1. Focus on being myself and doing things that make me happy
  2. Want to meet new friends and lovers who can accept me for exactly who I am
  3. Not afraid to open up to people because I welcome rejection (so the people who remain I feel 100% comfortable and supported around)
  4. Freedom is what I’m searching for
My Mindset When in a “Relationship”
  1. Focus on exploring and deepening the connection between us
  2. Not interested in meeting anyone new, feels like too much work
  3. Especially not interested in talking to romantic interests because I find it hard to imagine they will be able to accept how much I love someone else (feels like I can’t open up about a huge part of my life)
  4. Love is what I’m searching for

Everything makes sense now – the feeling that I have to “find myself” and get time alone was basically my understanding (at the time) of reconnecting with my single person mindset, asking her to “pull me back” was my plea at asking her to go back to our pseudo-relationship. I had a strong feeling that I needed to just process my loss of what we had instead of trying to “fix” things and now I know why. We are basically not on the same page anymore and any semblance of a relationship is gone. In fact, it’s been slipping away for some time now.

Once I am able to fully process this “breakup” I can fully reconnect as a single person.

Side thought: I think I’m probably a monogamist from this experience. I can only hold strong feelings for one person at a time.

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Poem Draft: Peanut Butter Diamonds

Peanut Butter Diamonds

They say that even peanut butter turns to diamonds when you crush it hard enough

peanut butter

spread onto the sandwiches in a million homes

by the knives of moms in aprons every morning

turned rare and special

under the treads of an iron industrial tractor

 

the ones I found

took the shape of words of a girl

laughing, crying, and clinging on to me

like the warm reflection of faraway lands

in the morning dew

 

I let myself fall in

and it was like the sigh of the ocean

the freedom of running as hard as you can

before your lungs remember they need air

but then

 

it slipped away away

and trying to catch it

I wondered

if those diamonds fall back

to peanut butter

when the tractor moves on

 

This poem is about mourning the loss of who someone was and celebrating all the magic they brought to your life before learning to accept them for who they have become. It is my first iteration.