(no subject)
these are just things running through my head, making me down. It's hard for me to talk about these things, but I want to get it out there. So. Just read, no touching please; I can't handle comments yet.
I'm am so sorry that I fled under stress. I am sorry that I could not deal with your screaming in frustration -- which gets nothing done, although we all leak frustration from time to time and some more than others. Still, the pressure and stress turned on and I fled instead of staying.
and the thing I am most sorry about is that I do not think you would have even done the same or apologize into the emptiness of your room for bailing.
*
I am two inches from peace of mind and a 20 minute drive to the comfort of body warmth and all I can think about is the patch of brown just above your collarbone. You are so lost from me and so far gone from where I am, I cannot help but wish you under the shade of our tree. I think about the red, and the times you brought me roses, and the funny way you wrote your "e"s. The time we sat quietly and content in the middle of so much noise and chaos and I was certain. All the time you waited for me and all the times I made you wait, delighting in the fact that you would and did wait.
and I think about waiting for you that last time, and not seeing you until I turned around -- I caught my breath, waiting.
*
I thought about your nails. I remember them dark green and chipped. You always liked them sharp at the tips, like claws. I remember you being vain about them and admiring your nails. I remember your room and the way you loved the sun. Oh God I remember the love that you wanted. Two lonely kids made a link and I wonder if he knows? I wonder if he thinks about you and cries about you. I wonder if you are still lonely.
I remember your nails before I came back. I remember them chipped again, pink this time and not hardly as worn down as before. You still loved your fingers and I still admired them. But now you were somebody completely different; you had become so small and thin, I didn't know what to do or say. I wanted to tell you that I knew you and loved you but I didn't know you, I never got the chance. I didn't know I was supposed to hoard everything. Now all I have left is a memory of your nails, and how you chipped them.