Dear Cx…explorations in what comes after
Dear Cx…
It’s been an hour since you left and I’m glad you felt the need to twist, stab — eviscerate — on your way out.
The skeletons you exposed will be the bones I use to rebuild a sanctuary you do not understand and will never enter.
These bruises will fade; my resolve will not.
Dear Cx…
It’s been a day since you left and the ghost of your self loathing still lingers in our bed.
I would light it on fire if I were sure it would purge the dissonant, acrid reek that swells my throat, makes my eyes water, and fills my head with the roaring void of life without the man to whom I promised forever.
Did you know that forever must be built? It will not happen in a vaccuum.
You said “this dream” and I sketched the blueprints — but you never planned to achieve it.
Instead, you gave up on us.
Dear Cx…
It’s been a week and my skin is crawling to exist in this space where we breathed together. This home was an Everest — returning triumphantly to Cali, as promised.
Your resentment for this city (the unchosen, the forced) poisoned the small and hopeful sprout we’d planted together in this adopted town.
Was there ever really an “us”? In the end it was just every way I failed you — thriving, defiantly.
You could not control the city, or me.
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