an open letter to my heart...

dear beloved...

it has been 3 days since we talked. in that conversation, you and i determined that it would be best to not speak or see each other for a while, as it is clearly too painful for me, and thus for you.

we also discussed why i am so insistent on moving forward so fast to "friendship" or "healing".

it is because i feel like i am dying.

it feels like i am waiting to die. because how can there ever be joy again in my heart if i do not have my best friend?

you were my home. now i live on the street, constantly cold, shivering, and afraid.

i cannot work. sleep only tricks me by allowing me to dream of you, and so i do not want it for a companion. even food, which i have so enjoyed for all of my life, has lost it's taste, and when i remember to consume it, it is only because it is a matter of survival. which feels pointless.

for me, the joy is gone.

and perhaps, even if you did come back, the joy would not return. at least, not as it was. at first, i know there would be very little joy. there would be hurt feelings, and guarded hearts, and more tears. and there would be talking. (unlike now) but, maybe, just maybe (and this is the maybe that keeps me from falling so low that i cannot rise in the morning) it would be a different and more potent joy that would be an entirely new experience.

but it is more likely that the joy will not return in any form that bears a resemblance to you. you have gone. and it seems unlikely that your mind will be altered from your current path.

and in the loss of joy, down at the bottom of a barrell where i feel safe - confined and alone - i have a found a spark of anger.

i grew a heart FOR you. i filled that heart with love FOR you. and you took that heart, and cherished it for a time, and exchanged that heart to me with yours. and we made that love feel so powerful and pure that it felt like it actually might be something good that could last forever. but then you took it away and remain resolute that it was not to be forever.

and now i am without that love that fed me. and without the counsel of the most trusted friend i have ever known. and i do not know how to survive being without you...without you. and you threw away the greatest thing that has ever been for either of us (which you have admitted).

and yes, i am angry. and yes, i am sad. and yes, i exist still. and yes, i am "surviving". for what else is there to do?

and now we wait. we have agreed not to speak until you are ready.

in the meantime, i will pick the pieces of you out of the heart, one at a time, until there is nothing but a thick scar, and never again will i allow that part to grow.

always,
me