Guess It Was Just Everything

"You said love was a question, the answer was everything."
 - The Sea The Sea; Guess It Was

I finally stopped dreaming of you at night. I mean that like in the same manner of a hoarder who's broke the habit still thinks about it all-the-time, still wanting more but never getting it. You are almost always there, lurking in the corner, being a friend, ignoring me. You're good at all of it, I knew you'd be wondering. It happened about a month ago or maybe longer. I didn't mark the exact day. All I knew is that suddenly you weren't mine anymore, not even in my dreams. Which was hard to fathom because for the longest time, going on years now, you were in my dreams and you were mine. Now like a bad habit you are gone but your presence is still there.

Last night I walked up to you and your girlfriend, she was beautiful and you were happy. I was sad, and it didn't matter. It still doesn't, just typing it out it doesn't matter if I am sad. One small person with a lot of dreams but no hope who had once been tethered to the wrong soul, is sad. How does that even affect anything? You're right, it doesn't.

The hardest part of all of it, is that it does not matter.

In the big scheme of things this moment is a sliver in time, and just a second in eternity.

They say to mend a broken heart you have to find love again. Actually, I don't know if they say that but they should. It is so true. I know you are not the type to believe what other people say, you always had to find out for yourself. I just think, the best type of love is the healing kind. The kind of love that can gather in all your frayed edges and make them fit back together. Not perfectly, it will never be perfect, but it can fit so firmly packed in and neat within you and it makes you feel close. Close to the one you love, close to the warmth another soul gives in this cold and malevolent world.

You used to be that closeness for me, even before there was anything. Damn. Letting go really is hard isn't it? But if we don't go, if I don't let go, that healing love never comes. Oh how I want that healing again! Did I ever tell you why I write about love? Because I want it so much.


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