FeatheredLetters

I went to one of our spots today. I drove by your house. I’m still mourning even after 2 years. I understand now that i never let myself heal the right way. You can’t immerse yourself in someone when they don’t exist anymore. It isn’t healthy. I went numb out of disbelief and pain. Now that i’m letting myself feel it my body is incredibly tired and the sharp pangs are slowly subsiding. I know i’ll be alright. I have to construct half of my soul, instead of letting it sit in ruin. I’m not happy. I’m not numb anymore though. I’m sad. I’m broken. I understand so many things. You even tried to talk to me. tonight of all nights. It’s like you know. You and I are still connected, and i’m sure we always will be, but you aren’t the same person, because that person is gone. Forever. I don’t have a home anymore, because that home was destroyed. And once it was destroyed, we should have left it alone. It’s on a rocky beach that gets hounded by waves. You left me there, and ran off into the woods. When you came back and found out i had ran in the opposite direction instead of waiting for you, you set the house on fire, and let yourself burn with it. You are gone. My house is gone. Parts of me are gone. This is why i don’t know you. This is why we can’t talk. I have to keep moving forward, through the woods alone, because that’s the only way i can find a new home. A place where i belong. Whether i’m by myself, or someone decides to join me. I can’t be with you in that house anymore. It’s gone.