Cure of Old, Disease of New.
Hey, angel with purple wings. Hey, my purple-peeted lover. Hey, you. Hey, the one who held a grip on my heart for awhile. Hey, you traumatized little girl crying out for help in all the wrong places. I have been doing some thinking in the last few weeks and before I thought our shared downfall was mine to carry alone. Until a few weeks ago, I thought I was the poison that polluted the essence of our relational presence but as I sit under this tree as the moonlight creeps through the cracks in the branches, I realized you had more to play in the collapse of our joint existence. I realize you were a cure of old, but a disease of new.
You helped me move through the growing pains of my youth but left me with adult trauma. You gave me space to rediscover and uncover but left me with heartbreak like no other. You gave me the peace to unripple the ripples of Zara before giving me tsaumsis of your own. You watered my seeds, only to pluck my flowers from their soil. You gave me belief in myself before clouding it with your words. You gave me connection from the stars, but left me in the void with my spacesuit. You gave me a home but each room was filled with silence. You allowed me to breathe as you starved me of my oxygen. You gave me sunshine then drowned me in rain. You gave me hope but then filled me with angst. You filled my holes and then took chunks. You built me up, only to send me crumbling. You loved bombed my heart, and nuked my soul. You centered me then sent me spiraling. You held me close only to let go when I needed you most. You said forever and then left after 3 years. You called me a dream before turning me into a nightmare. You said you loved me only to have your last words be “I hate you so much”. You promised you’d stay through my darkness, only to push me further into the abyss. You said we’d get sober, only to leave me drug-fucked.
You said you loved me then cried in my face. You made love to me like two flames dancing and then fucked my heart. You wished to birth my child only to say “You’d make for a terrible dad. I’d feel sorry for any kid you had.”. Oh, how that one fucking hurt. You were my purpose but I needed some of my own.
And, trust me I know the parts I played. The parts that still haunt me in my sleep and walk beside me in the daylight. I know my part. I know my trauma-caused. I know I was a piece of shit to you. I know I said things that should have been left unsaid. I know I did things I’d kill myself for if I ever did such a thing again. But, as I get more distance between who I was and who I am, I realise now that we were just two fucking traumatised kids living in adult bodies, bonding over our shared fuckedness and falling in the love with the perception of who each other could be. And I know you took the full frontal of my emotional turmoil for a few years. I am both sorry and thankful for this. I am both at peace and constantly riddled with guilt for the hurt I caused you and the added fuckery to your existence. Like all that shit still catches me from time to time. It's as if I will forever be rebalancing the karma as I'm scared I may never pay for the dues of my past actions.
I know the words that came out of my mouth were ones of projection and unnamed emotions swirling around in my head. I know I had a temper tantrum every time something happened that was out of my control but what you never realized was simply a reaction stemming from my fear of needing to be in control and the fear of losing you as you’d finally see how fragile I was. I am sorry I didn’t have the emotional maturity to vocalize any of this at the time. I know my temper scared you and you had every right to be scared; it often scared me too. I know you saw parts of me, I hope to never revisit but I saw parts of you too. I know calling you “a boring brick wall” when I really should have said “I am worried I am getting stagnated in life and I am scared you will find me boring and leave.” will fuck both of us up for as long as we live. I know I should have said “Thank you for finding us a home. I am super nervous about moving in together because my previous experience has left me traumatized. And, I hope you know I am going to try my best to heal for you and for me”, instead of turning what should have been a beautiful transition into one of sadness and resentment that would eventually swallow us both whole. I know I would use my good deeds against you in times of anger and disconnect. I know I complicated things with your parents but they could have met me halfway. I know I made you feel so alone but I was lonelier. I know so many things and for a while all I could see were the things I did and not the things that we did and you did.
For so long, I have carried the weight of it all. For so long this burden I bear consumed the absolute fuck out of me. I carried it all in the hopes of moving through while you laid under it all hoping the next guy could fuck some sense into you until one fucked a baby into you. I’ve been lost in my head for years and without art and people I would have achieved my wish for invisibility. I've been wandering for so long through the debris of the past but now I am so fucking tired, Christina. I am so tired, it's not even fucking funny anymore but it's a tired not even sleep could fix. I am so tired of shutting myself off from the world in the fear of my heart falling out of my chest again; I'm scared I won’t survive the next one. I am so tired of all these questions now circling in my mind.
Why have I let myself wander aimlessly for so long? Why do I think that my fuckeries are unforgiveable? Why did I think isolation was the answer to my loneliness? When will I experience a love I read about in Nicholas Spark novels and the films of Richard Linklater? When will I experience a love softer than clouds? Why didn’t I see the red flags flapping in the wind? Why did her red fade into pink for so many years? Why does my past still halt my future? Who could love a soul as troubled as mine? Who can handle me when the darkness consumes me and all I seek is death? How do I change all these false narratives in my head? Do I grow too fast for others to love me? Why do I always picture an ending when I think of romance? Why does my mind put an expiry date on love? Why does love seem to be my kryptonite? Why did she love me, only to leave me lonely? Why do I see love as such an idolized thing rather than an intense feeling of emotions? When will I stop thinking about love and simply start allowing it in my existence? Fuck, man. I have all these questions and I often wonder if the answers I seek will ever find me.
Argh, fuck man! Honestly, who cares anymore? Like fuck! I have to stop avoiding love through the act of protecting all that remains within my heart and start trusting the power of life again. I got to stop saying “art over love for me” and start saying “art and love for me”. I have to stop allowing fear to deprive me of human touch. I’ve got to stop my insecurities from corroding my soul. I got to somehow trust someone again! I trust the beautiful homies with my mind and soul more than I trust my own self but how do I trust someone with my soul and heart again? How do I turn off the view of my past and allow for new to take its place? How do I love without bringing emotional baggage along for the ride? Fuck sake! I am asking questions again when I should merely be existing. Fuck, Christina, I am so tired. I have to put this all down. I got to move on although that feels near impossible for a soul like mine. Although, that feels impossible for a hopeless romantic like myself. Although, moving on seems like the end of the world. I must before it cripples me even more. So, goodnight and sweet dreams, Christina. I hope you heal and I hope your daughter gives you all the strength to stick around and I hope you one day make sense of the chaos swirling within your troubled mind. Good night, Christina.