Dear... Dion
I guess this may just be the very end?
It feels like we’ve had so many ends, and they never seem to tie to any beginning, or is it all just one continuous string of us? Is this our story? Our recurring loop of ends? Each phase, a new end?
I miss you again, like I do every time we end. I miss talking to you. I worry about you. I get scared that I won’t get to say goodbye. I replay bits of sunlit history, and my mind doesn’t seem to remember those cold scary nights as much as my heart remembers the warmth. Why. Little moments. They fleet through my brain. I was such a different me. And yet every version of me has this same longing for you.
I had to say goodbye like this, because we won’t get a real goodbye. I wanted you to know that my heart loves you still. I have a thousand silent conversations with you every day. I miss the us we used to be.
I will never go back to you. Never. But I still hope for the best for you. I want to be at your side for your last goodbye. And yet I won’t. I want to be at your final farewell. And cry my heart out. And love you one last time. But I won’t. Oh how this heart beats in brokenness over us. I want to show you the woman I became. My life. My achievements. My beautiful amazing kids. But I can’t. Goodbye my love.