Two weeks ago.

Two weeks ago our words were spilling from our hearts, not our minds.
Two weeks ago and I was safe, happy, comfortable.
Two weeks ago was so long ago.

I don’t even think you remember.

When I fall, I fall hard.

The lights come on: a twisted leg and it takes me longer to get up than I could ever imagine. Your hand in mine for the first time tonight but we’ve spent hours skating around.

I’m happy.

Sometimes I forget how to be happy. Sometimes I forget to do things that I enjoy simply because I enjoy them and I become so caught up in the daily routines I have that I forget to stray every once in a while and actually live life.

Fast-forward and we’re almost at my house but I don’t feel like going left so I ask you to turn right. A walk in this sacred place, this sacred space and there’s something truly beautiful here. It’s no wonder so much self-abuse happens here, a place where others hope to drag themselves out of the holes they dug.

Sometimes I worry, sometimes I wonder if I was getting too antsy with normalcy, a sense of peace for the first time, and I had to add some chaos back into my life. I know it’s not true, though.

A few (weeks) months ago I would have easily told any boy who crossed my path that I was in recovery and I needed at least a year before I started dating anyone. It wasn’t true. It was a defense mechanism. A refusal to get close to anyone so that no one can hurt me. My guard was still up when we met and I turned my head the other way when one too many questions flew my direction. Cold, an unusual reaction from myself. I knew it was time for me to be open, honest and the next time I saw you I couldn’t bear to turn around again.

Something special.

At first I wasn’t sure if I was in desperate need of sleep or simply crazy. (Sometimes I still wonder about both.) A connection of sorts or maybe I’ve never been used to conversing and every time it happens, so does a spark. Oh no, I’m not quite the starry-eyed little girl I used to be but there was something there, there is something here.

I’m cautious, yes. I’m weary of where I may be leading myself but I know the paths I’ve traveled before and this is a new trail, a road I’ve never wandered before.

Sometimes I wonder about it, about us, about those words you so casually tossed to me and I sent back but mine were special, you were the first.

I used to spend hours and hours wondering why I liked you, what made you so damn good that I couldn’t get over, past you.

I realize now what I could never realize before - that you were the only one who respected me.

Sick and twisted and my stomach churns at the thought that I automatically equate respect with love and anyone who could ever possibly respect me must be worthy of my love forever and ever.

Maybe it’s not so but sometimes I fear I’ll fall for the wrong one, again and I’ll be stuck in a hell I created.

And as we lay in bed, naked, at four in the morning, I finally got the courage to ask, “have you ever been in love?”

His arm still around me, squeezed me tightly, “yes.”

“What happened?”

He stared into my eyes for a moment and when he realized I was genuinely curious, he sighed.

As if the thought had just occurred to me, “we were in love once, weren’t we?”

“Yes,” he whispered with a sad smile and I knew better than to question further, as he kissed my forehead.

Your hand reached down to mine and I grabbed yours, desperate to hold onto something, anything that would save me from falling through, falling down.

I let go while you were still grasping, slapped your hand away so I could fall without dragging you down with me. Shocked, hurt, saddened: we both were. You didn’t let go, I forced you to.

Now I’ve thrown myself back into this whirlwind, spiraling around.

I miss the comfort, the security. I miss clinging to something, anything and acting as if it were the only thing that mattered. I miss my addictions.

Truth is, I muttered those words to you as you drifted off to sleep but the part of you which could receive them, didn’t. Those words are lost now, forever trapped in the space between my mouth and your body.

you weren’t the first
but you were the last
nothing’s happened since last year
nothing’s happened this past year

Sometimes I still listen to Owen late at night.
I longingly gaze out my window, expecting to see you smoking on the balcony.

Sometimes I’ll hear love songs on the radio and a wave of sadness will wash over me.
I’ll remember thinking about you and thinking about how we would last forever.
I knew it, I just knew it.
I knew we would make it.
Sure, I had the occasional fleeting thought that maybe we wouldn’t but deep down, I realized our love was far too great to ever be lost.

I remember the last time I saw you.

I laugh when I feel like crying; I remember everything I wrote.
I was in love with you.
It’s time to stop denying it, denying everything.
I loved you.

In some way, I still do.
Forever is a long time.

The way you said things.
Let’s make love.
Like you wanted it to be special.
Like you wanted it to mean something.
I love you.
You said it a thousand times over and I never once understood why, not until now.

I thought nothing could sway me, no breeze, no body, no heart.

Last night I fell, I flew.

Hi cute girl with the blue hair.
I smiled and danced for the rest of the evening.
I’m the only girl without a beer, the only one who isn’t drinking.
I’m dancing more than anyone else, more than everyone else on the floor.

Are you okay?
The world is spinning and I’m trying to remember the last time I slept, the last time I ate, as I gag on this poisonous water.

It’s water, right?

How many times the bartender refills me cup while he gives me that look.

I’m slipping, falling.
I don’t speak often but when I speak, every word is a song.

Here I am, in a stranger’s arms.
He’s told me stories about all the markings on his body but I’ve yet to say a word about mine.

I’m just a little cold, I swear that’s all.
I close my eyes, just for a second and I’m with you.
I swear I’m not falling in love.

He whispers that he’s sort of seeing someone (or sort of wishes he were), that another second with me and we could be falling, floating away.

I opened my eyes and I realized.
I realized that I’m with him, not you.
I realized that your arms have never held me the way that he held me.
I realized that I imagined every perfect moment I had with you.

I laugh.
What are you talking about? We aren’t doing anything.
He gives me that look.
Staring into each other’s eyes, seeing more than we could ever possibly speak.

This breeze has stolen my heat, this body has warmed me up, this heart is beating next to mine.

How clueless I was to how vulnerable I truly am.

“Jesus Christ, you made me come all the way over here and ring your doorbell.”
A slight smile on your face showed me that you’re not angry.
“I didn’t think you would.”
“Well, you weren’t answering any of my messages.
I missed you.”
I stared at you, tried to stare through you.
“This is the part where you say ‘I missed you too.’”
“Oh.”
I giggled, laughed.
“I was busy.”
You sighed.
You looked straight at me.
“I love you.”
I held a newspaper up to my face, I hid behind it, only peering over the top to see your eyes.
I wasn’t sure what to say.
I’m not sure I said anything.

A while later:
“Let’s talk.”
“Okay.”
“Meet me upstairs.”

In the bathroom, words flow through my mind, everything I want to say.

“I didn’t know you’d come.
I didn’t know you cared.
I mean, of course you care but I didn’t know how much.”
You looked at me, concerned.
You looked at me, wondrously.
“Just talk to me next time.”

Of course.
It’s always so simple to you.

“I’m scared you’re going to leave me, like everyone else has.”
And more and more and more.
I let it out.
I couldn’t believe I let it all out.
I couldn’t believe how easy it was to let it all out.

You were the one I always turned to, when no one else is around.
What will I do when you’re no longer around?
I need to know before you leave.
I need to know because you’re already gone.