break again

Old, real, but feeling again somehow

Mike, my love, my heartbreak,

Why does every thought bring me to you? But it does. A song I want you to hear, feel. A hand I want to hold, feel. A view you would love. Feel. Moments shared. Love growing.

In some fucked up way being away from you has amplified every feeling, every emotion I have.

In my head there is no way I want to be with you, with anyone who’s not sure how they feel about me. Because real love is sure.

And yet my heart aches for you. To hear your voice. Stories of your show. Things that make you laugh. I want to tell you about my new plans, my new dreams, to hear your thoughts, your questions. I want to read your essays, to know your dreams as they grow and change, to know your challenges, to encourage you to face them as the man I was starting to know.

But talking to you guts me, makes me think about your new loves, makes me feel the us is gone. So I don’t call. But I hold on to the thought. The one call I’m still allowed to make. Where you say you love me…that youre waiting to see me in May, that your heart is mine and I am in yours…..

But is that hope hurting me? Keeping me tied to something dead, abandoned, kept alive in my heart, but worth nothing more than a childish fairy dream?

Maybe. Probably. I am sure. And yet I can’t let go. What will make me let go? A photograph of a kiss? Already I see the words on a wall (facebook kills), the smiling pictures of new girls, and somehow I hope, that everything you might have with them makes you miss me, miss us. Because us was unreal, amazing, love.

I look over my thoughts and I’m angry at myself, for believing, for hoping. I already know that if the right love was there, in your heart for me…that you would have chased, held on, told me you loved me and wanted to wait til May, that this was worth waiting for, that noting you could feel could match this….and you Don’t feel that. So God Damn it! Why cant I let go??

I don’t know. I don’t know. But I will let go. Pride is good, and strong….and helps with the following though. I will stay grateful for all of the good….. and I will stay angry at all of the cheap words and promises that fooled my heart…the kind love was real, but mixed in with some much shit that at the end of the day you wonder whether over all was good or bad.

Either way, it was. And it is shaping me, and I will come out strong, determined, brave, and ready for my real love. But damn you for being so immature, for not knowing your heart and for throwing words and dreams into my heart that you never had any intention of following though on.