Ignore This

Dear Whomever,

I loved you, innocently. 

I let myself go for you. I had high hopes for you, that you would pursue this intensity I clung to. Stripped of margins, I was willing to touch the edges of the Earth for you. I know I fell fast but as fleeting as it all seems, the momentous downfall came just as quickly. I suppose I always knew I could never truly get through to you. I was drawn to you. You drew out the fight in me. The difference is, I let go and you still held on. For what, I’ll never know. You never gave us time to grow and I was blind to you. Blind to the truth in you. The cat and mouse games, the ignoring my texts, placing blame, the wishing, yearning, and feeling nothing but shame. I should’ve cut you off like you did me, maybe I never would’ve known this pain. I suppose that’s why I’m so angry at myself or lost. Angry, mostly. I’m afraid I’ve lost you. I have lost you, it’s fact.  

I loved you, wholly. 

More than I’ll ever be able to express properly. You see, you were special to me. A love lost at sea and you’d finally found me. I loved who I was when I was with you. I felt free. Quirky. The best kind of crazy. You liked my wild spirit, I liked your silly nature. I really thought you’d complete me. I didn’t love an idea of you or your Instagram feed. You were complicated, I liked that. You were not a prize to be won, you were precious, sacred to me. It was my duty to preserve your purity. You were troubled and it seemed you needed me. Or maybe I needed you to quiet the storm in my mind. The constant clutter. You seemed so kind. You weren’t what happened to you or how you chose to deal with it, you were divine. A living memory. My favorite lines. If I could bottle you up, you’d remind me of sunshine, intricate designs and childhood memories of fresh, Indiana pine. I wanted to embody you. Eat chinese food. Draw silly tattoos. I wanted to know you in your most vulnerable. Wanted to know what you looked like frustrated, impatient — I only knew you isolated. I wanted to cure your apathy. Make you laugh. Tell you to relax. Reminisce on the past. Listen to vinyls on repeat. Pick daises for you and trace the contour of your bones. Kiss your nose. I wondered if you paced on the phone. I wanted all your fears and to get lost in tears. Watch B-rated horror movies until three o’ clock in the morning. Have tickle fights. Try on all your clothes. I wanted to be beside you. Never leave you.

To put it simply, all I wanted was you. I still do. I will covet your embrace infinitely. Sometimes I think I’ll covet it so entirely that one day I’ll go numb and wouldn’t that be a joy — for you, maybe. Something in you changed and it isn’t fair to me after all the love I committed. I suppose this whole thing would be easier if you’d ever give me closure. But here I am weeks later still writing you love letters in the early hours. I am a sap. I miss you. I wish so badly I could touch you. You kill me. 

I haven’t been myself in awhile but I don’t blame you even though the way you treat me is vile. I haven’t heard your voice in two weeks, I wonder if you even still think of me. Your apathy consumes me violently. 

I told myself to let it go that you would never love me and that I was getting old but here I am still writing you letters that you will never hold.