Photo by: Danka and Peter
... come back to me as the man I fell heart over stiletto heels for.
You don't deserve this.
We stayed up until morning. Well, at least you did. I got knocked out after my threat at going M.I.A. again.
Anxiety wasn't the problem.
It was going back and forth uncalled for mental time machine rides. You didn't ask for another round of the blame game, not even once, but I launched one after the other thinking it was best to go over our issues one by one, again and again. Because it wasn't over. Because, no, I couldn't let it go. You're forgiven but I will couldn't forget. Because there was more behind that apology. I was sure.
This won't be sweet.
We dropped that act months ago when trying to be nice only resulted to "Everything's fine, Honey" and "Nothing to worry about, Sweetie". Reality was, in our hearts, we wanted to be cuddled like the most vulnerable kitten meowling, "I need you now more than ever."
You said you'll change.
It took you several lies before realized your little game of charades had to stop. You told me about you're insecurities a bit too late, don't you think? I've already been freaking out nonstop going down my own insecurity rabbit hole you helped dig up summer two years ago. Thanks.
We weren't that perfect.
I was crazy. You were viciously optimistic, trying to filter the truth. All the words you never said secretly fuelled all the fights we could've resolved with one I love you.
You didn't need this.
Today was supposed to be special. I wanted to send a long thread of words that begins on a positive note and ends with an even more positive note to start your day. I ended up clawing, picking at your faults because every love song has already been sung for you before, apparently. This was a slap. A sorry I'm not sorry type. One that I wish could wake you up so you'd come back to me as the man I fell heart over stiletto heels for. The man I gave up my entire past for. The man I was ready to move into the future with. The man I said I would no doubt die for.
I want to stop arguing about our two-way mistake of shovelling for skeletons.
Let's start over again.
Told you this was never coming. But here it is. Enjoy or Destroy.
@writercaht #openlettersbycaht
12.17.18