1. Of the many things I am capable of doing, to not remember you is the most difficult, even impossible. Each time I look at you, a promise of an inevitably perpetual looking back is whispered. But how can I forget you, I said one night, when all I have done and all I will do since we parted ways was to recollect whatever remains of us. That’s your curse, you said, to always remember. Your lips curved into a half smile. You turned your back and everything seemed like a part of a badly written history.
2. When the frequent nighttime silence begs for audience at two in the morning, I get up and hunch over my writing desk, reaching for my music player and pen and paper. Water and Bridges slices through the empty room as I start to write letters too emotional to send, yet too important and too liberating not to. But contraries clash and decisions have to be made by sunrise. If ever I get my chance… The final line sends me to sleep while unsent letters pile up in the trash bin along with some other fictions, mostly half-baked and not worthy of recognition.
3. What can I not do to talk to you again, I thought as I lit one cigarette just so I would look like someone from this neighborhood. I know this is going to be a long wait, which explains my jacket and half a dozen beers in my backpack. I was about to plug in my earphones when I saw you from afar, clearly drunk, I went the other way and slowly disappeared in the darkness, with a beer and cigarette in one shaking hand, eyes welling in tears. I have found my closure.
4. I can be upset and hurt all I want, I can sit here and kill myself with the questions of why and how, but instead I’ll have someone else answer them for me because what is perpetually better, is finally getting the help i need to better myself.
you cannot reach me. it is close to impossible. as you read , or maybe not, these last lines I hope you feel some regret. I no longer have the same phone number, you cannot bother me on facebook or insta, and this is the last thing I will ever write on this tumblr.
all I can say was I hope it was worth it, and that I hope one day i can be happy for you. but who am I kidding right?
Alexander McQueen Spring/Summer 2007