(View from the End, 2008)Something poetic should be said: Something proper, fitting, and right, for closure, for our goodbyes. But we don’t, and we'll never, it just begins when it ends. Stop calling me. Stop emailing me. You don’t even live there anymore. Why can’t you just forget it. Why can’t we forget it. I’ll try and forget you. I want to. The image of you has been split, you image is no longer with my image, we are two not one, and I’m throwing you away. I’m doing this because I once loved you, because there are emotions that need to be forgotten. There is a charge that needs to be dumped.
I’m going to be a runaway. I’m going to grow a beard now. I’m going to read more, be completely, totally, dedicated to my work. I’ll work harder, I’ll do, not try, I will. All without you, I don’t need you. I can never escape the part of me that was you, and you can never escape the part of me that is you. But please forget, I’ll stay up late at night, doing, not trying. And then when I can’t think of you anymore I’ll see you again. Right there and then, somewhere in the future, your image with the image of me, together as one, and we won’t be able to split. But I’ll try. We’ll try. But we will never do.
2 comments:
this entry is so intensely personal that i don't even know what to say about it other than you seem like a ridiculously well-adjusted person.
oh and for the record. i don't like poopee. i like SHMOOPEE.
I find that most of the time I tend to live a second life internally. I'll go over scenarios in my mind on events passed. It is at that plane of thought I birth a realm based on my own reality on how I feel would be the perfect outcome to all events that have ended incompletely or as failures. Redemption or imaginative half-lifes.
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