Because, you want to take it there. I do not.
I began the sentence, “It is important for me to let you know what has happened. There has been a shift — “
I could not finish it. I knew he was sitting on the other end awaiting its completion. I was supposed to complete the sentence. There was supposed to be an ending, but I stalled.
I needed a moment. I needed several moments. I wanted to be sure that I gathered all details, ironed them out, placed them neatly on the screen, and watched them fly off once I hit “Send.”
He is good at that, WAITING.
Waiting on me.
I played everything out in my head, all that I wanted to say, that needed to be said because, well…
“You are too broken for me. I will spend the rest of my life finding pieces, picking them up, and placing them where they belong. Your wounds are too big for my hands. Applying pressure is impossible.
I will not stop the bleeding.
I do not have enough gauze.
The glue of me is drying up and you need me to put you back together again, and again, and again, and I am not good with repetition, so I run.
I Always Run.
You should be used to this by now. I am so good at running, you can give anyone a detailed and accurate description of how I look leaving… from behind.
Get My Drift?
There is never a good time to say to someone, “you are draining me. I am no longer breathing. You have taken my life. I want it back.” So, I felt it best not to.
You mistook my silence for approval of your character and we lived in whatever you want to call what we did/are doing, longer than we should have.
I have catered to your feelings. I know them best. I have featured them at parties, they are great appetizers.
However, I do not fill up on h’ordeuvres. I need meat.
And, you cannot give me that.”
Now, I was the one waiting. I waited.
“I get it. I need to change.”
“No, we need to let this go. I have been saying this for years. Please, get on board.”
“I can’t. I won’t. Just give me a little more time.”
“You have had ten years and I do not have another ten to offer.”
Is only the other end of the pool, an ocean, the depth of my swollen soul. We said goodbye in person. Two days later. We haven’t been the same. He hasn’t been the same.
I am to blame for it.