lost.love.letters.

lost.love.letters.

sometimes you come across unexpected things when cleaning, a forgotten article, a book, clothing… or a photo, dated on the back 10.99, a lifetime ago, but the impact is still a sinking-hole feeling inside, a sick feeling to reside, something, something I have never been able to shake, HER, the one, the one, there has been no cure, no elixir, no remedy, no replacement, at least so far, all these years, you begin to question, you wonder, wonder if you are a lost cause, or just flat out insane in some manner, but the feeling, the feeling is so raw, so guttural, ripping into your core that I can not ignore, am I just a broken person of the heart? the worst part, of course, is I blame myself for most of what happened, the separation, retrospect, of course is an easy road, but does that mean it is incorrect? I suppose, I feel (or am) broken, knowing that all of us are, somewhat, to lesser or more degrees, but knowing that does not soothe the driven cold spike I feel on moments like these, I don’t think I will ever truly be healed even if I pray to be, and I argue with myself, looking around at the world, do I even deserve a reprieve, when I can not even begin to forgive myself.. 10.99… October of 1999 – I wish to an inch of my death I could hold you close again, just once more, to feel your heartbeat and your warmth as we are one, just once more, as the reality of that memory is so faded now – those immediate memories, just the empty chasm of regret and pain… I wish I had a higher IQ of the heart, back then… I miss you, still, if you only knew, if you could only know, how sorry I am, how much, I am forever to dwell, in your love, and how much I will always love you, wrapped within myself now… within myself until the end of times, where I hope to see you, for that is all that keeps me alive…

notes… this was stream of consciousness, the photographic record of us is not large, I doubt she even has one of me, I can count only a handful, but the time we spent, two stars of different galaxies aligned somehow… there has never been anyone else but her, I have tried, replacements, forgetfulness, time… no, none of it was worked, but I am still alive, so there is always hope, even as my years fade into time, at least I had that time, and I would walk there gladly again, even in delusion, even in dementia, or anything, the pain of separation is the poison that dims the light of my soul.

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