You were the only one I could really talk to. The only one I could tell when I wasn’t feeling alright. Only you don’t know that, you probably think it’s the opposite, that I don’t want to talk to you.
And now, you tell me you think I don’t even want to get better. Well, I don’t. Not really. I’m not cut out for it.
I would go right now but you’d probably find me.
I’ll do it tomorrow morning, when you’re out.
Don’t think it doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I do, unconditionally. But this is how it’s meant to be.
I had 2 dreams last night. The first one was set months in the future, and I’d moved on and life seemed normal. Crazy, but normal. And I woke up from it thinking, wow, things could be okay, if I keep working at it.
Then I fell asleep again.
In the second dream, I was sat opposite him, in the house we used to live in. It was that night where we were both too drunk and we forgot who we had to be and just let things happen. Only things didn’t happen. We sat cross legged opposite each other and played that game where you write a celebrities name on a Rizzla paper and stick it to the other persons head, and you both have to guess who you’ve got. But when I reached out to him I could hear him telling me it’s over and asking me to leave just like he did a lifetime ago. And I was smashing things just like I did a lifetime ago.
And then I woke and I knew I could never go back, not even in dreams.