I like to think I'm just a call away from anyone who matters to me, or ever did. I don't particularly know what this says about me - the fact that even during a pandemic I have thought about her and him and you and everyone in between; wondered if you're all safe; ruminated about how I could support you. I obviously know better now so I don't actually reach out. I have make-believe conversations in my head instead.
Because it's only in songs and movies and sitcoms (damn you, FRIENDS for setting such unrealistically high standards of human behaviour) that people take the higher ground or the path less travelled by. In actuality, it's just so much easier to do the easier, more self-serving thing. To go on pretending that nobody else's feelings need to be important. I still always thought if the world was ending, you'd come over (albeit metaphorically). Right?
So all this has really got me thinking - am I also on somebody's mind? Do you grapple with whether or not you should reach out? Do you lie awake at night thinking about my safety? Do you wish for my happiness like I wish for yours? Do you curse at the wind because it doesn't seem to carry messages from you to me? Does every change of weather do something weird to your insides? But it's been years now, and as much as I didn't want to I've figured out how to - how to let you go and let communication die out.
Because the alternative was to drive myself insane waiting - for a text, for a call, for a sign - like I have time and time before. I've screamed and wailed and wept because I wouldn't get my way; not often, not rarely, not ever. I've raged, bruised and bargained with fate to just change this - to make conversations possible. Eventually, I've even learned to make my peace with never having any semblance of normalcy or of a shared past but just wished for an ability to look back at it without fear or doubt creeping in. I think, I think I've figured out now - how to think about you without it ripping my heart out.
It's slightly easier when the inevitable seeps into your conscious. When you judge patterns and discern what works for you in the longer run. When you (finally) understand that giving in to your need to reach out and be empathetic to everyone, all the time doesn't leave much room to protect you. I'm not one for destiny or fate but sometimes enough good happens for you to start believing that even the bad had a purpose//reason. I know, you know, we know, you weren't down for forever and it's fine. It's finally fine. Because with you, or him, or her - neither was I honestly. I just didn't want to admit it.
However does that have to mean we pretend the other doesn't exist? This one's for all of you.
You were my childhood bestie, my crush, my first sacrifice, my best friend, my favourite brother, my whirlwind romance, my perfection, and I'm still carrying you all.
I remember you all and find myself hoping you've found safety and comfort in these trying times.
But I'm pretty darn sure I haven't once crossed your mind.
Because the world is ending and you haven't come over.
Right?
Because it's only in songs and movies and sitcoms (damn you, FRIENDS for setting such unrealistically high standards of human behaviour) that people take the higher ground or the path less travelled by. In actuality, it's just so much easier to do the easier, more self-serving thing. To go on pretending that nobody else's feelings need to be important. I still always thought if the world was ending, you'd come over (albeit metaphorically). Right?
So all this has really got me thinking - am I also on somebody's mind? Do you grapple with whether or not you should reach out? Do you lie awake at night thinking about my safety? Do you wish for my happiness like I wish for yours? Do you curse at the wind because it doesn't seem to carry messages from you to me? Does every change of weather do something weird to your insides? But it's been years now, and as much as I didn't want to I've figured out how to - how to let you go and let communication die out.
Because the alternative was to drive myself insane waiting - for a text, for a call, for a sign - like I have time and time before. I've screamed and wailed and wept because I wouldn't get my way; not often, not rarely, not ever. I've raged, bruised and bargained with fate to just change this - to make conversations possible. Eventually, I've even learned to make my peace with never having any semblance of normalcy or of a shared past but just wished for an ability to look back at it without fear or doubt creeping in. I think, I think I've figured out now - how to think about you without it ripping my heart out.
It's slightly easier when the inevitable seeps into your conscious. When you judge patterns and discern what works for you in the longer run. When you (finally) understand that giving in to your need to reach out and be empathetic to everyone, all the time doesn't leave much room to protect you. I'm not one for destiny or fate but sometimes enough good happens for you to start believing that even the bad had a purpose//reason. I know, you know, we know, you weren't down for forever and it's fine. It's finally fine. Because with you, or him, or her - neither was I honestly. I just didn't want to admit it.
However does that have to mean we pretend the other doesn't exist? This one's for all of you.
You were my childhood bestie, my crush, my first sacrifice, my best friend, my favourite brother, my whirlwind romance, my perfection, and I'm still carrying you all.
I remember you all and find myself hoping you've found safety and comfort in these trying times.
But I'm pretty darn sure I haven't once crossed your mind.
Because the world is ending and you haven't come over.
Right?
