nothing to regret, much to hold onto

Letting go. Like letting go of a burning suicide note as I hold it over the rushing water, still standing next to you. I’m not ready to let go of you. I’m not ready to wash the mud stains from last night out of my jeans. I have to let go of the delusion that if I’m patient, if I just wait, we can be together again. Let go of what I can’t know, what isn’t happening now.

Everything wraps up neatly with poetic symmetry. We retrace our steps from all the walks we’ve been on before, all the silences we’ve held between us. I don’t want to come back here without you. At least I know this is the last time. I wonder if you remember how we met in as much detail as I do. I surprise myself with my sentimentality towards you. You were someone who understood my dramatics, my theatricality. Of course you’d be willing to come with me to burn a suicide note. Come with me to look at the moon again, framed like it was on our first nighttime walk. Come help me explore the meaning of bittersweet. Come help me understand song lyrics I’ve known for years a little bit better. I think it was kind of beautiful, even as we stumbled through the mud.

Sometimes I held on so tightly. Sometimes I feel like you did too. I was so afraid that you would let go of me, and now you have. So I can only let go of that fear. I have to hope I haven’t left anything unsaid. What was this? This was something I always really wanted, maybe even needed. I had it for such a short time as if I was never meant to have it at all. My life takes place in a dark room and I’m scared that I use other people like a flashlight. No, more like a match. All I need to do is turn the lights on, but the switch is out of reach. Even in the dark, you really saw me. You saw me as what I am— something other than a woman— and I have to make other people see it too. I’ve been fumbling around for that light switch for years and I’m going to get it this time, I really will, I have to.

You’re such a short walk away. I wonder if I’ll look up at your window each time I pass by until May. Half a year with you feels like it was so much longer. Thank you for everything. It’s over now. I don’t know if those were good memories for you. I hope some of them were. I want to remember it was all real- it really happened. I’m sorry these memories will never feel so real again and the words are all that are left. I will try not to wait for you.