Summer Winter

The summer has come and with it the heat. And with it a sort of winterization of my heart. The story of me and you against the rest of the world is ending. With it all of the melancholy that I can barely stand to stomach is seeping out. I hate it.

I found myself curled up in Chief this afternoon feeling as tiny as I could be. Crying.

I hate feelings, I said. They always lead to hurts.
He said, But you love the feeling of my love.
Yes. But one day it will lead to the greatest grief either you or I will have ever experienced.
He responded: It's the cycle of life baby...

The years and years of therapy forcing me to accept emotions, forcing me to feel all of this shit that I didn't want to feel, suck. Here I am, wallowing. Hurting. Because I ventured to love, and I didn't want to. Because I couldn't help myself...

Stupid me.

I hate goodbyes. I hate needing someone or something. I hate the essences of my fragile humanity bubbling up to the surface of myself and being unable to contain it. I hate feeling like a mess of a woman. I hate running out of words, and yet feeling like I haven't said enough to matter. I hate wanting to know I've made a difference in your life, for the better. I hate that this is ending...

I am helpless to prevent it. I know it and you know it too. Wishful thinking can paint the sunset sky all I want but it won't really make a difference. Life goes on and things can't last forever.

I am closing the door and saying goodbye. I am grieving like hell because you're worth that to me. Selfishly I hope you are grieving the loss of me. But ultimately it doesn't matter. It doesn't make any difference if I mattered to you. Love isn't about reciprocity. It's about what I gave to you, unchained, untied, no strings... It's about how loving you changed my life for the better. It's about learning to accept that love is about giving of myself because I choose to.

I have no regrets, when it's all said and done. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

I thought you should know.