An Unwritten Goodbye Letter

Dear ……,

I can’t apologize for the crippling 

depression that held me under water.

I can’t apologize even though I want to.

The thing is we both went through 

changes, depression changed me and

the bitterness of what you wanted and

want we had changed you. You never

apologized to me and truthfully I

didn’t expect you to. It’s hard to see

you’ve done anything wrong when

you’re always the victim. And I’m many

ways you were a victim. A family that

cast you aside, people taking you for

granted but as much as you held against 

me for what I wasn’t I still did everything 

I could to love you every day more than 

I did the day before. I’m only sorry I wasn’t worth more to you that my love didn’t 

matter. So here we are, superset lives again.

Different paths leading who knows where. 

It’s no secret that this story of US wasn’t 

close to a fairytale and we both know

that any story with me as a center figure

will only end up as a shot show. What I do

know is I held our time in our waking

nightmare as a beautiful memory. Even 

though in your eyes I would wake up,

fuck off all day, go to sleep and wake up

to repeat the entire process. Sometimes 

that’s exactly what happened. I only wish

you knew the torture I felt in my heart 

every single damn day but you didn’t care.

The truth is, when I brought it up you 

dismissed it by saying you’d been depressed

before and you climbed out of it. If I’m being 

fair you weren’t living the nightmare I was,

ever. That’s ok though. We all deal with our 

pain differently. As a poet and writer I’m a

real sucker for happy endings and happily ever after. We and I riding off into the sunset with

that tiny dog, in love and full in love. Happy endings aren’t real though and I finally see

that. That hopeless romantic in me has died.

I have a feeling I’d you’d closed your eyes

and listened to what your heart desires it

would have spoken my voice. It would have

reminded you that I loved you, even when 

you were a huge pain in the fucking ass. 

If you’d listened to your hearts whispers 

you’d held on and never gave up because 

what we had, what I though we had I thought

was the real deal. Like most things I thought

about were just more stories this poor lost

writer made up in his head. If we’d listened to each other we’d held on no matter what and

if we truly beloved no matter how many times

shit got fucked up and fell off the rails we’d 

still be holding hands instead of me wishing 

until we meet again.

To you it’s all over. In my heart, my head and

 deep in my soul it’s just time standing still and all that’s left is you, me and goodbye.