We had a conversation once, once.
Surrounded in a world where every single person was talking at me, loudly.
You spoke to me, calmly.
Of all the differences to be made, to me.
It was you who made one of the biggest, the loudest.
I heard you and I continue to hear you, always.
One day I plan to tell you, one day.
Stop living in the past.
Stop thinking that my past defines me.
If the last time we held a conversation was no more recent than a year ago, stop assuming you know who I am. I have had experiences that have changed me, so have you. I acknowledge them, why can’t you?
Stop making promises you will not keep.
Stop giving me false hope that you will one day show up.
People make choices and they live with those choices every day.
Good and bad. My past is there, it is a part of me. It created the person I am. I wouldn’t be sitting here as myself if none of those experiences happened.
Stop thinking of now as being the same as then.
Stop thinking of me as I was then.
“When I lost her, I had dreams. Dozens of dreams. I was home and she was there, or she wasn’t. Sometimes it was worse when she was there because I knew that it would never be real. It would never be okay. She would take my hand, she was cautious – like she knew that I was ready to bolt at any moment.”
“Why did you feel ready to bolt?”
“…It can’t be real. If I run, I can create distance.”