Feel free to listen as you read! (Or just listen or just read!)
I. We’re soaring down the highway, blasting music and chasing tomorrow, wind roaring in our faces, voices fading into the night. A glistening canopy above us, an endless road of possibility. II. Yelling at our parents who just don’t understand, rolling our eyes, eager to find new lands. Musing about the future, the places we’ll explore, the people we’ll meet, the stuff we’ll do once we’re free and out of this suffocating society. III. Laughing in busy streets, a photoshoot in the east, capture these ephemeral moments of blissful feat. Dancing in pouring rain and sneaking drinks and candy and games again. Watching movies and putting on face masks, cradling pets and attempting cultural cooking tasks. Concerts in eclipse hours, illuminated spectrums of dazzling power. Shopping hours on end, thrifting and making random TikToks to the latest trend. Bubble tea and walks in the park, days spent together swirling to dark. IV. If only I had known. If only I could sense. But I was blind, fooled by your pretense. Lulled into six years of comfort and security. You couldn’t, you wouldn’t, do this to me. V. Rage. Searing hot. Piercing. Unfathomable, this hurt. I can’t breathe. I can’t comprehend. How you left me, how you stranded me, for him. Changed yourself, all our plans, right before even though you swore. You’d never betray me. VI. How I stood there, waiting, disassociating, hoping I was wrong. How my mother cradled me in her arms as I sobbed uncontrollably. How you kept talking about him afterward, how you only ever talked about him, how every single fucking thing became about him. How we – us – slowly slipped into oblivion. Day by day. How you ignored EVERYTHING I said and threw yourself into these situations. Over and over. How you didn’t apologize until it was too late. How you said you were sorry, but wouldn’t you change what happened? How you took me for granted, my home, my voice, my time, only ever visiting to party and get drunk, always on your phone, never truly hanging out like we used to. How even then, I cared, I was there. The hours I spent consoling, comforting, standing by your side. Supporting you while you cried. Sharing resources and pleading with you to seek help more qualified. I tried. I tried and tried and tried. To help, to forgive, to move on. Only to find you were already gone. VII. How I knew, on our impromptu trip to New York, a last-ditch effort to salvage what remained where just two years prior we soared, it was over. How your actions, a culmination of strikingly differing behaviors I’d gradually noticed, violated core values of mine. How your utter lack of self-awareness, empathy, maturity, and understanding splintered what was left. How you sat across from me at lunch on your fucking phone, and everything, everything you had done, all the pain, all the times I supported you, fractured entirely. And I knew, I’d lost you. VIII. Strained texts. A meme. A TikTok. Curt replies. Growing distance. At first, days, weeks. Then, months. An entire summer. A semester. We haven’t spoken. IX. You were struggling, I recognize. Dealing with things I can only surmise. Blinking in broken beats of a past buried so deep. But the blade is steeped. The memories reaped. My body, my mind, won’t let this repeat. X. And I don’t know which is worse. Wishing you were here. Or wishing things were reversed. XI.
| I can’t stand the sight of these photos, these stupid videos and texts, the pieces you left behind. | I can’t bring myself to delete them, to erase the moments they hold, the people we were. |
| I never want to see you again. | I see you, in the songs you like, the shows and food. In memories underground. In perfect places we found. |
| I’m ceasing all communication. | Why am I still following you on social media? Why do I still like and comment on your posts? Why do you comment on mine? Why do I reply? |
| GOOD FUCKING RIDDANCE!!! | Maybe we can still fix this. Maybe we just needed time, a break, to grow and remediate. |
| I hate you. | I miss you. |