the house is quiet tonight

the house is quiet tonight.

not the peaceful kind of quiet,
where everything is exactly where it belongs.

the other kind.

the kind where the refrigerator hum
sounds like a distant highway,
and every room feels a little larger
than it did when the day began.

Ii sit here,
surrounded by evidence of a life
that somehow survived itself.

photographs.
projects.
half-finished plans.
a future i once thought was impossible,
and another future i was certain would happen
but didn’t.

the strange thing is,
if you had asked me two years ago
whether i could endure all of this,
i would have said no.

absolutely not.

yet here i am.

still making coffee in the morning.
still paying the bills.
still worrying about my kids.
still fixing broken things.
still finding songs that make me pull the car over
just to listen one more time.

still here.

sometimes I think life changes
like a car skidding on black ice.

you don’t steer toward where you’re going.

you stare in disbelief
at where you’ve already ended up.

a different house.
different dreams.
different fears.

different love.

and somehow,
the road continues.

tonight,
certainty feels very far away.

the future feels blurry.
the heart feels brave one minute
and terrified the next.

i look at the empty chair across the room
and wonder how many versions of myself
have sat exactly where i am now.

the husband.

the father.

the musician.

the man who wanted to leave.

the man who was afraid to leave.

the man who hoped.

the man who lost.

the man who found something new.

all of them still living somewhere inside me,
arguing quietly in the dark.

but beneath all that noise,
there is something else.

something older.

a voice that says:

look at everything you’ve survived.

look at the fires.
look at the heartbreak.
look at the impossible conversations.
look at the nights you thought
you had ruined everything.

you are still here.

not untouched.

not certain.

not finished.

but here.

and maybe that’s enough for tonight.

maybe tonight doesn’t require answers.

maybe tonight only asks that I sit
with this strange, unfinished life,
listen to the quiet,
and trust that tomorrow
will reveal itself
the same way every other tomorrow has.

one ordinary sunrise at a time.

i’m angry with you, but i will never tell you.

i’ve not written anything in a while… having this page discovered and then read by an unintended audience has soured everything.

i don’t want to shirk any accountability for my own words and actions, but having this place sullied and ripped away from me left a vacuum. it removed a much needed pressure relief valve for me. it stole my only outlet for my more intrusive thoughts and left them trapped in my head.

the end result is that i have hurt people i care so much about, not intentionally, but because i didn’t, and if i am honest, still don’t know how to deal with these feelings and emotions.

—

i am trying to come to terms with being alone. like really alone. up until very recently i had someone i could reach out to all the time, about pretty much anything. and now… through my poor choices and inability to self regulate i have alienated everyone.

that realization is depressing, and scary and also upsetting, but for other reasons than what you might anticipate. i made mistakes, sure. i said things i shouldn’t have. i pushed people away that didn’t deserve it. but i also apologized, and tried to make amends, and learned lessons, grew and changed from it.

but it didn’t matter. or it wasn’t enough.

maybe i am just not enough.

maybe my worth really is only what i can provide.

maybe all i deserve is to be alone.

maybe that’s better for everyone.

give me something to hold on to

everything feels like it is just slipping away. like when you pick up a fist full of beach sand and you squeeze it as tight as you can, but it still just pours out of your hand, leaving you with the few grains of sand that stick to your sweaty palms and abrade your skin… reminding you of what you once held.

i hate it. honestly, i feel like i am losing sight of my destination at this point. i feel lost, and i don’t know where home is. i’m not ok, but i don’t know what to do about it. i feel like i have lost any real connections i once had, and trying to make new ones feels impossible for some reason.

i don’t want to do this alone. i want someone in my corner. i swear i will make it worth their while. i have so much to fucking give… i don’t care how imbalanced it is as long as you have my back when i need you. i don’t care how much i have to suffer so long as i know i have someone to come home to who will make me feel safe.

i’m lost in the desert, there is sand all around me that i can pick up, but it feels like i can’t hold any of it for any length of time before it too slips away.

what’s the point? i feel like giving up.

if i don’t hear from you by tomorrow, i am going to delete everything.

i can’t keep doing this to myself. waiting. hoping to be chosen. that’s all i’ve ever wanted. to be chosen. to actually be important. to not be given up on. to be valued.

i lie awake at night waiting for it. i check my phone every few minutes just in case you send me something and then delete it again before i have the chance to see it.

it’s been a little over two weeks now that i wake up in the middle of every night in a panic state, hoping that i see your name flash on my screen… but it never comes… and so i re-read the fragments of what is left of our friendship until my eyes are burning and exhaustion takes over. i suppose it’s like some form of self torture or punishment.

so by tomorrow, i am going to delete everything. i can’t keep doing this. you’re not going to choose me, you never were. i need to accept that.

all i want to hear is your voice

you’re so selfish. a peculiar kind of selfish wrapped in the most beautiful of selfless wrappers. you’ve perfected your craft into art almost, it is enchanting, it is admirable, it is pitiable, it inspires awe. with great intention, it transforms your worldly appearance into a form so wildly different than your truth that no one would ever believe it. not even yourself.

but still, for a moment, i saw you. the real you. granted, it was only a glimpse, you wouldn’t ever let me actually see the whole you, but none the less, i saw you.

and the you i saw didn’t scare me. you didn’t worry me. you didn’t upset me or sadden me or make me feel anything but love for you. and yet, even though it was the only thing i wanted, the only thing i needed from you, you couldn’t allow that.

i tried to tell you in my own way. i’m not infallible in this, i could have done so much better, but i used the tools and judgement i had at my disposal. i know it wasn’t enough to make you understand. i know i wasn’t enough to make you want to change even if you did understand.

this was always supposed to be a fantasy for you, wasn’t it? this was never supposed to bleed into the real world. fantasy is safe, fantasy has no accountability, fantasy has no compromise. fantasy has no real vulnerability. but… i can never find happiness in the fantasy. of all places, you know that is the one place i cannot live. you know how my mind works, you know the games i play with my own thoughts, you learned about limerence from me, remember? forcing this to exist in the make believe kept me broken, confused, scared.

for you, the fantasy was safe, and reality was not. for me, the opposite is true.

you should have listened to me from the start. i was not the one for you, i never was. too many red flags. too many complications. don’t you dare say you were not scared or that you wanted to find solutions to those road blocks, that is a lie, and we both know it.

i should have listened to you when you retreated the first time and i should have left it alone, i should have known i would only bring you hurt. but i am selfish too.

i’m sorry.

you should know, not a day goes by that i don’t think of you. you’re still the first person i think of when i wake up, and the last i think of before i fall asleep. i love you and i think i have from the moment we met, and i suspect i always will. but none of that matters any more.

i never imagined ours to be a tragedy, this story was not supposed to end like this.

–

have a very good night, and a very sleep tight. i hope you have beautiful dreams, even if you don’t remember them.

ok, i’m ready to talk now

how dare you enter my dreams like that and tell me all the things i want to hear? right when things here in the real world are becoming so fucking wonderful.

you’re not going to leave me be until i burn everything to the ground, are you?

i don’t want to do that. don’t make me do that. i know you already have, but you’ve been doing that from the start.

control

it was always about control, wasn’t it? i think that’s the way you are broken most of all. you need that control all the time. not in a way that’s like “i need to feel happy, i need to feel safe” but in a much darker and more destructive way. you need to have control, it is involuntary and you will sabotage and destroy everything around you in order to ensure you, and only you, can dictate the terms of engagement. and you don’t even realize it. do you?

you were never going to choose me. this distance, this obstacle, this impossible to resolve situation, it’s perfect for you, isn’t it? you have a barrier, a control mechanism. you can hide behind it and retreat whenever you want, whenever it gets too real. you were only ever going to peek around the edges, never crossing the line. i see that now… and it makes me sad.

the fact that this is how the story ends is tragic. i don’t want to accept it, but i think i have to. the alternative is to chase after you and surrender everything to you once more. the problem is, i’m worth more than that. i deserve more than that. i need more than that. and you’ve made it abundantly clear, you will not be providing me with any of that.

so, i am truly sorry,, but this is it. the end of the road. terminus, tout le monde debarque.

goodbye a.