April 10, 2015

  • love was just a memory

    I thought years later we would have reached some sort of precipice.

    [live through this and you won't look back.]

    I thought we could rewrite the past, dance in the moonlight of those memories. Crash down the walls we had built up over time.

    In that moment, in the infinite silence that echoed your hesitance I knew it was over.

    I started to understand that hole in my heart did not really have your name spelled out on it.

    I started to realize I hadn't even noticed that I wasn't interested in finding love any more.

    In this moment I would do anything to hit the road, to be staring down the mouth of I-15 again going west. West. West to see the one man who will always love me, and never love me the way I always needed him to. And that's alright because he deserves to be happy and he has found it, and that is more than I could ever ask for.

    [Give me something to believe in.]

    Sometimes when I am the most lonely I try and cling to those memories. I put myself through my own personal hell over and over and over. Replay this same movie.

    I don't have any place to hide any more.

    So I'll look at pictures from back then, I'll close my eyes tight and remember the smell of Arizona monsoon rain, sharing a headphone with you, when my heart felt full and life was just beginning.