Alone We Stand, Together We Fall Apart


Words cannot express my happiness and gratitude in you finally understanding and appreciating love. It is more than a feeling, more than words. It is unlike sadness or happiness which is fickle. It is not a part time job. How you love is who you are. And I have utter gratitude in your being able to comprehend how much I loved you, and how willing I was to douse the world in gasoline so the gold zippo in your hand can fall to the ground. You were the only one I allowed into my lofty heart, and I even left the seat down for you and did the dishes. It was my pleasure.

But now that you’ve grown into a person who loves with passions incomparable except from my own, you are alone. For I’ve given up that ‘love.’ Ive spent what seemed like decades in order to show you, however, it wasn’t until I had no choice but to give up, that you learned. Perhaps you became my successor, perhaps its a cosmically funny joke and He is slapping his knee, sides; splitting. I stuck by your side through every possible maliciousness that could happen to two people, then I stuck by you while you cast your own malicious necromancy upon me, the one you ‘love.’ You’ve scarred and burned me alive while tending to my wounds at the same time. I didn’t know what to make of it all except I didn’t know more, everyday, whether what I felt for you was love, or the greatest personal practical joke ever elaborately planned.

No I’m not happy to be alone, I’m terrified, but being alone feels tenfolds much better than feeling like I’m below an eating disorder or an aesthetically ravenous photographer who wanted his telephoto lens wet, or dirt, etc. I gave up my entire world for and to you. You gave me a piece of orange flavored chewing gum. …But do I miss you? Do I still love you? Yes, no lies here; nothing to gain. This’s my dreamlike blessing that became a nightmarish curse. I still love you blindly despite how you’ve taken a vegan shit all over everything I believed in. You fucked me up, as if I wasn’t before. You, look at me, look at what you’ve created.

Do you want me back? Do you even feel remorse? I was just a kid who loved life in the world with you. You were the sunshine I needed for those gloomy days I hated so much. I didn’t even have to see you. I was always there when you needed me, why couldn’t you return the favor. I even ate your unpleasant casserole without asking you to to like my banana split. Now I’ve become an existential ghost that haunts and awaits further agony, blahblahblah. A cliche. The ghost you don’t text message anymore, the ghost who doesn’t listen or remember everything you say anymore. The martyr for your love, whatever that may be, whatever it looks like in whatever clothes or music it was birthed from. Lets hope karma is a myth.

I’ll tell ya; love isn’t a walk in the park, you’re going to have to work on it, put in that extra sweat. Like the effort in finishing an entire meal. It doesn’t matter one goddamn bit what you feel in your heart, its your actions that express it.

Ive finally been able to honestly laugh and enjoy myself the last few weeks. Because I stopped worrying about who’s company you kept and what cities you claimed to have kept them. The truth is, you were a horrible girlfriend. You couldn’t tell the truth, perhaps because we were far apart, but then again, I know you inside and out to know you probably couldn’t tell the truth to the people right next to you in bed. If there’s a change in you as claimed, you better believe I’m skeptical about it. There’s trees for me to shake out here, and some nights, fruits falls from them for me too.
You just couldn’t appreciate you’re own living room and kitchen, so you went outside. Did you remember to bring your key?


Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s