As the sun sets, her shadows dance across my ceiling again; returning to bid another long day farewell. The feelings I’d suppressed today ascend from my body allowing me far too much time to reflect. Robert Glasper’s Photograph soundtrack softly fills my lifeless bedroom triggering the many memories I have of us.
This bed feels so empty without the warmth of your body next to mine. I used to lay here and watch you sleep while the lies of tomorrow would drift across your face like the sweetest dreams.
I never understood how the men I loved most could look me directly in the eye and sell perfectly crafted tall tales about my happy ending. After having met you and sharing my fears and weaknesses, the answer was obvious. It’s done because I allow it. Out of fear mostly. Fear that the next man will love me less so it’s in my best interest to stick around. Fear that my emotional depreciation would continue to plummet the more I gave my heart away.
Still, something about you felt different because in good times, being in love with you was different. Truly an experience.
In hindsight, I’m not sure if I truly loved you or if I fell in love with the fabricated version of you made up of lies and potential. The weekend facade.
When we met, we connected almost instantly. Everything and everybody around us melted into the floor and the world was ours for the taking. Back then you had time and consistency. Treating me like I was everything to you. Loving me loudly, boldly, and without restriction. That was then. This is now. Somehow we’ve slowly become more disconnected than ever. Everyday brings new secrets, lies, and further neglect of our much needed alone time.
It’s always hurtful to watch a relationship die right before your eyes. No matter how hard you fight to save it, it just slips right out of reach. This one cuts me deep because for the very first time, I’d envisioned this limitless future with you by my side. You taught me how to fly through life without fear. I never imagined I’d be here in this space with you. I thought we were forever. I think you thought it too.
Tonight, I’ll cry like I always do. Tomorrow, I’ll pretend not to be heartbroken over the loss of you. When the sun begins to set and her shadows visit as I stare blankly at the ceiling again, I’ll reflect on the beauty of the time I spent in Brooklyn.
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