My eyes are very green today
And they reminded me of you
The way they billow in like smoke
And lie about the truth
I’ve written just as many poems
In your absence
As I did when we first met
They were exciting then
Of hikes in snow
And resting there, by waterfalls
And all that I have written now
Is about the way time has shifted silently
In the days since you’ve been gone
How the aching in my hollow chest
Is working its way out
Through the surface of my skin
My eyes are just as green
As the path that I refused to travel down
On our way that day
To our swimming hole
That I’ll never get to swim
When really, they should be gray
Like the days have felt
Without the color seeping in
And my eyes smiling shut
In the blinding brilliance
Of your love
Ugh. There has been so much lately that I’ve wanted to say, and it has all piled up. I’ve started blog post after blog post, never finishing or sharing. At this point, I feel like I’m going to explode.
And Also, I don’t even know where to begin.
I am going to start with a letter to someone whom I shall not identify. People who know me will know who it is.
After you left, I started my memoir. It is going well, and I appreciate your contribution. I was so thrilled to start it, that I did not get sad about your departure. But, in the days since, there is much that I have missed.
The way you appreciated my athleticism and my dedication to running. I’ve been told since that I’m either not a runner, because I’m slow, or that being slow makes you “bad at it.” No one has appreciated my hard work like you did. It made me feel good, and now I’m feeling like I’m not even a “real” runner.
I watched a segment on CBS Sunday Morning about the California redwoods that made me think of you. It made me cringe to hear about how 95% of them had been destroyed, and I couldn’t even watch old footage of them being cut down. I saw the prettiest tree yesterday while lying on the ground, and thought of you.
I miss our hikes. I’m not sure it’ll ever happen again. Here, at least.
Now, that you’re gone, the end seems so petty. What a waste.
There’s a lot I miss that I will not post, but it’ll be in the book.
I pray for you at night, though, when I’m going to sleep… That you go where you want, and get the job you want, and find happiness, and beat your demons. That doesn’t make me feel stupid. I will always pray for people I love. But missing you does. And caring.
The last time you told me you loved me, I didn’t say it back, and that’s the only thing I regret. If there were only one thing I could say to you, it’d be that.
I honestly, did not realize how much I’d miss you. I guess you can never truly mentally prepare for something when you have no idea what it’ll be like. And it is harder than I anticipated.
And in an “I’m not going to say I told you so” sorta way, I’m totally not going to admit that I totally hope you miss me too.
No one will ever get me like you did.
“I’m not sorry I met you. I’m not sorry its over. I’m not sorry there’s nothing to save.”