I Know

October 30, 2011
By , Fort Wayne, IN
Dear Stranger,

I know what I did was wrong. I know how I've destroyed everything I had going for me by simply opening my mouth. And I know what's waiting for me at the end of this. I know your going to break my heart and fade away, like everyone else I have ever loved. And I know that I deserve it for what I did to you. I know everything is my fault. My suicidal tendencies, my abandonment issues, my need to have always be with someone because I simply can't be alone. But that's the problem, Stranger, I always was alone. Ever since the beginning, I've been alone. Maybe not in the sense of physically alone, but emotionally and mentally, I've always been severely detached from everyone around me. But can't you see that I am trying? These past few weeks, I've been pouring out my heart onto my sleeve, in the hope that perhaps I can get you to forgive me. In the hopes that maybe, finally, I can be close to someone. I've been trying to prove my worth to you. Showing you that I can change. And knowing that at the end of this, you're simply going to break my heart all over again and disappear. But that doesn't keep me from looking forward to every minute I am even given to be allowed face-to-face with you. I follow all your rules, I've walked on eggshells around you, dancing around things I wanted to say, because I knew you'd get up and walk away. Because, dear Stranger, I'm not strong and brave like you once long ago dubbed me. I'm weak and afraid. I'm afraid to die. I'm afraid to wake up each morning and realize that every minute that ticks by is another minute I'm losing you. And I don't own you. I never even had you. Even when I was close to you, all I could seem to do was push you farther and farther away. I blocked myself from letting you in, because, honestly Stranger? I was afraid. I was afraid to let you close because I knew all I would end up doing was losing you. I'm sorry Stranger... for everything I did.
You know? I did dream. I dreamed my memories. Every minute we spent together, I mapped out in my mind, so that I would always remember. I spared little momentos, and kept them in my wooden chest. A couple of buckeyes, a stone, a pine cone or two. I wanted to be able to hold them close to me at night, when I knew you would be gone. So I could go back over the memories each piece held for me. Though, seperately, each piece meant nothing. But it was the combination of them that meant the world to me. I can't hate you. Even though those are the words you seem to long to hear. I simply can't do it. I don't have it in me. You can lash out. You can hurt me. Your words can cut up every inch of my heart. Your fingers can bruise my flesh. At this point, I don't care. You deserve to do all those things to me. And I deserve so much more.
I've pretty much already accepted that my fate with you is going to end in heartbreak. And I accept in my heart that everything I'm doing will be in vain. But I'll keep doing it anyways. Because, even knowing that all this is for nothing, does keep me from fanning those tiny embers of hope. Hope that you'll see what I'm trying to show you. And hope that I can fix those things that I have caused to be irrepairable. Even when your gone, your memory, hopefully will be enough to sustain me. I've mapped your face with my fingertips. Enough so that, I can never draw it, because my pencils do you no justice. I know your voice as well as I know the sweet sound of rain. I know your eyes, in that way that, even when I'm old and unrecognizable, if I were to see your eyes, I'd know that it was you. And I know my memories, as soft and alluring as the dreams that I crave.
And if I were to die, right this very minute, as I type all of these things, I would have no regrets. I would not fear whatever afterlife awaited me. I would not cry out in torment if I were to spend my years in Hell, because I would only need to know that once upon time, I was alive. Once upon a time, I had something that meant the entire world to me. And though I messed up and lost it, I fought every minute after that to make it all right. I fought to earn the right to gain back what I gave up with my lips. And I would know that I suffered every step of the way to show you exactly what you meant to me. So, Stranger, I know you'll never read this, cause I know you'll never look in here, but trust me when I say that I meant it when I said that I loved you, and though you'll never believe me, and you'll never look my way, I just wanted you to know, that I love you still. And. That I'm sorry, for all the damage I ever caused you.

Sincerely and Always Yours,
The Long Ago Willow Tree That Grew for a Love That was Never My Own

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