Six years, six years it’s been. Me digging in the grown for apples, rather than looking in that tree. For six years I searched, searched in places I would never find these things.
Yes, I wrote that one about you. About a relationship that failed.
I can recall every time you didn’t answer me, no matter how boisterously I yelled.
Something like the center of my universe. You brought me into your family and I prayed to the Gods that you would be my first.
Six years of unanswered questions and the ridiculous notion you would ever bless me with some clarity.
This is what the world would see If a story was written regaling, my love of you and your disregard of me.
Year one: we had little in common, but we both were so enthralled by one another we tried new things.
Year two: you cried your poor heart out to me as we sat in the back seat, that same night I told you, I would never let you go even if the Earths strongest steel pulled me.
Year three: We were just so happy. I gracefully prepared your dinner and I laid against your shoulder until we both fell asleep.
Year four: Here we have the inception of my melancholy. That same year, I cried as you screamed at me. And for a time I did not speak to you and you did not speak to me. And I’m sure based on the tone of this story the audience that reads has gathered.. It was not you who returned to me.
Year five: Is difficult to sum into few words. We sat in silence. I made excuses to come and see you. You made excuse to stay away from me. We did still kiss, and I held your hand in mine. Much to my surprise the strength I had been giving to you, you were giving it away to strangers on odd websites.
Year six: The year we didn’t kiss.
I was hurting and angry and I had gained so much weight. That year I had forgotten who I was, drinking everyday…
Oct. 5th 12:14am
I asked you, “Do you love me, are we going anywhere together on this ship?” “Honestly, no. I don’t value relationship.”
Was all the reply.
For a moment that night in bed, I stood watching over my own body. An incident, a nightmare, an episode, whatever you choose to label it, it is unfortunately true.
I am broken, I am destroyed and too often I adumbrate my eyes due to the tears I’d rather cry alone.
Six years, six years I looked for spring flowers underneath the snow. Six years, six whole years It took me to realize hanging pumpkin seeds from trees won’t bring any growth.