Apocalyptic emotion trafficking my mind. It’s impossible to escape. I feel at calm on the bow, and I’m going to exit this world in the same way I entered: quiet, introspective, and hopefully surrounded by the people I love. I cannot seem to fathom what fate’s befallen me in the present moment. It’s extraordinary how different I thought today would be from what it actually is. I live alone now. I can’t reach out and touch her, or feel the scent of her hair against my chest. I live in a shallow box on a tiered and flimsy structure. The slow and gentle caress of her feet against mine were all that was permitted in the final moments. I accepted such a gesture with eternal gratitude and joy. I know I won’t get to experience this feeling again for a long time – if ever – and it means a great deal to be present and feel it inside my mind, heart, and soul right now.
A gentle touch on the shoulder. A soothing laugh about the past. It’s all we want from our memories in Boulder. And we wish that this will always last.
Ironic most of the love songs we cherish the most involve separation and distancing. They induce a feeling of time scarcity, and with it they propel our imaginations into creating a world around us more different and painful than even Satan (a.k.a. God) himself could perceive. We’ve lost ourselves in rapture within each others’ arms countless times before. We’ve fucked so hard we can barely breathe, and we’re left speechless and dehydrated after hours of intoxicating bliss. And it all comes with a cost, for when we lose it, we lose a piece of ourselves. In this particular circumstance, that piece is larger than anything else I’ve created in my life. It’s an identity source we’ve latched onto – a codependence established over years of comfort gifted and received from the guaranteed presence of our lives together. We don’t seem to yet understand what it means to have that piece of our lives deleted.
Forever is not arbitrary, yet we’re afraid of this instant and tether. May these glasses be a tributary to the memory of our life together.
Shed a tear – even when you don’t think you’re going to. It’s incredible how easily they work their way into the world. Everything seems calm, cool, and collected, and with the simplest of vision – a realization that you’re never going to experience an emotion again like you experienced it with her that way four years ago, and the world may be shattered, black, and empty – the tears come rushing forth. They’re relentless. Vengeful after years of optimism and happiness that have been created through a life together. And they don’t give a fuck. They laugh at the world as you sob in your sleep. They call you a coward as your panic and weep. I’m mesmerized by a feeling of loss and regret I didn’t expect to surface. Isn’t this what you wanted? She tells you, “You can now live a life you’ve always wanted, free of supervision and nagging.” But you didn’t want such a life without her. You wanted a life with her, complete and full of her optimism, happiness, joy, euphoria, and love. Her love has been the most superb part of the universe. It’s special. It’s full. It’s addicting. I can’t lose it.
As you sit beside me on the couch, my eyes begin to pour. I try to stop it, but then say ouch – I need you for just one second more.