They told me I was wrong. That there was no way that any thing could ever be the way I dreamed it would.
No one knew how I could love him. Even he never really understood. But I did. I always will, even if only a little bit.
The times we spent… a precious memory to me. The nights together, holding each other tightly in the aftermath, the mornings we spent dreaming in one another's arms.
Does he remember the sunsets? The promises? I do.
Does he know I will never forget him? Will he miss me?
We where fighting and
arguing… it was the day we ended.
I ran from him.
The sky was black, and the stars were fading. The tears just wouldn't stop. I love him, why cant he understand… why cant he love me… I didn't know. I still don't.
Running, I was lead to the top of the hill. There I stood, looking over the sky, over the sea, filling it with my tears.
I remember how I wanted him to come, to have him find me. I just stood there, waiting.
Waiting…
Soon, all I could feel was my heartbeat tearing me apart. The cries tried to rip from me, but there I stood, keeping them inside. I could not be crying when you came….
So I stood. For minutes, for hours, I don't know. I knew it was over. I knew he wasn't coming.
I mourned us.
I cried for us.
Until the sun came, all I wanted was for him to come to me, to hold me and take me into his arms, to brush his hand across my face as he had done before, saying: "Be still; I wont leave you…"
And then….
The blackness dimmed. Blue and red, purple and orange came through the morning. Clouds parted, built and blew through the night.
The sky bled for me, for him.
And then the sun came up. The light filled the morning.
It was so bright. So bright I closed my eyes, breathing deeply. All I could feel was the wind flowing through my hair, the warmth tickling my skin.
I smiled.
I laughed.
All the moments of my love came back to me.
I knew that I would never have you. That I would leave, and you would soon not even remember my name. That if you ever saw my face, you would walk on by, a stranger to the only one who ever truly loved you.
And still I lifted my arms to the sky, full of the joy of how I loved you.
How I loved loving you.
He will never know, I think, what he did for me. He changed my life. Even through all that he did to me, I would never regret what I had with him. The simple times… the weeks of ignorance. Our summer of love.
I stood there for a long time, breathing in my life. Holding inside my heart all of the meaning that I had found.
I will never forget him. I couldn't even try to. But I was ready to let him go.
That morning, I returned to my room and packed my bags. Somewhere inside, I hoped he would still stop me, but he wasn't even there to see me go.
How empty our house was. Walking through the rooms, stepping with my bare feet across the hall, I peeked into the rooms. Ghosts of us where everywhere; memories floated through my mind as I watched us, dancing, laughing, talking through long nights… Him sitting, watching me, teaching me.
Soon, I found myself in my room. He gave it to me… it still had touches of those who had come before remaining, but I had managed to somehow make it mine.
And yet, after removing my few things, it seemed as though I had never even entered, as though this room had never borne my name.
I packed my bag. The few things that were mine, I took with me. My books, my music. A few of the things he gave me.
I remember; I left him a gift. On my made bed I laid the last gift I had wished to give him. A book of Shakespeare's sonnets, with a dedication to him on the inside cover:
To you whom I will never forget
My greatest love.
I smiled that sad smile that was so common on my face these past days.
There was one final message I needed to leave him; silently, I removed the bookmark and placed it marking the passage of my choosing. I read it quietly, a lonely tear dripping from my eyes onto the page:
No longer mourn
for me when I am dead
Then you shall hear the surly sullen
bell
Give warning to the world that I am fled
From this vile
world, with vilest worms to dwell:
My eyes flowing from word to word, I began to read aloud:
Nay, if you read
this line, remember not
The hand that writ it; for I love you
so
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot
If thinking on
me then should make you woe.
O, if, I say, you look upon this
verse
When I perhaps compounded am with clay,
Do not so much as
my poor name rehearse.
But let your love even with my life
decay,
Lest the wise world should look into your moan
And mock
you with me after I am gone…
I shut the book, brining it to my heart. It is still hard, this goodbye.
Quickly, I bring it to my lips, and bless it with a kiss. I pray I my head that this last kiss will guard him and keep him safe.
I lay it down against the pillows. I look for a moment, reflecting on how lonely my room – this room has become. But no more. It is time, I think, and turn away.
I know I will never return.
I hoped still, that he might arrive. That he would attempt to stop me. That he would take me in his arms, not allowing me to leave until he had confessed his undying love to me.
Sometimes I wonder what may have happened if I had stayed, if I had waited for him to return.
Still, there is a certainty inside that tells me things would not be as they should if I had stayed. I feel no regret.
I believe perhaps it was better he wasn't there.
I remember stepping out into the hall, and looking to his room. The door was cracked; perhaps he was still here, and only sleeping.
For the first time in forever, a swell of pity washed over me. And then, as soon as it came it was gone.
I turned from his door. To this day I remember every knot in the grain, every tone and shade of red in the wood. I remember how the morning sunlight reflected of the doorknob, how it invited me to return….
And still, I left. Just before I left that hall, I looked back. I wished he was there; but I was glad to be rid of the burden of goodbye. But still…
"Fare well, dear heart."
That was all I could say. Oh how I struggled with the words. The entire house seemed to fill with the tension of all that I wanted to tell him; how I wished he would always remember me, how I prayed he would forget me…
Finally, I found myself outside of his house. The air was warm and soft, and felt fresh and new as I breathed it in, soaking its newness into my blood.
And so, with my pack strapped to my back and my hat on my head, I began.
Perhaps others might have faulted me, but I did not wait to say goodbye. I already had.
I still remember the sun that day; the way it shone to greet the very earth I stood on, as though it wished to lead me on. As though it rose just for me.
It seemed as though all the world rose up to meet me that day, as I strode out of his house, out from our home.
The sun was shining. The dew was fresh. And my pathway led me on.
Free at last, and still forever bound by memory. I do not know what he thought when he returned home to find me gone, but I know one thing:
Dear love, I will never forget you. I pray you remain protected and safe, and that if there is any happiness in this lonely world, that you find it.
I love you. I love you.
I praise the heavens for every moment you spent within my life. I wish to never forget all the joy, all the life that we shared.
I still love you. Even though you don't believe me, I will never stop loving you.
And now… I let you go.