Author: Ashley

I don’t know

what I’m doing.

I love you

I love you SO

MUCH

I don’t love you any less

I still want a chance

but I’m tired of being alone.

And there’s

this person

and he’s kind

and I think

he’d stick around

and that’s more than you did.

and I’m scared to say

I want something

that I actually do want.

But also

more than that

I want you.

and that’s where it all

goes wrong.

I was so certain I’d find the same answers

yet didn’t want to.

so I looked and looked

and questioned and cried

and ached and slept

and waited and prayed

and talked and thought.

And I came to the conclusion

that I was both right and wrong.

There may not be a rule

against being with an unbeliever.

There is an incredible burden

a disconnection

we could never shake.

But I always knew that.

And I’ve always been willing

to bear it.

For you, I would have done

anything.

The struggle for answers was messy

and tangled and bloody and I communicated

all wrong and untimely but I–

I tried.

And I had to reach out

and tell you–

I’d changed my mind.

I’m trying

to put the present first

put away more things

in more boxes

to join the ones in the closet

stop the thoughts of you

at the first half second

tell myself over and over

you don’t love me anymore

pray quickly and then

let it go.

But when the moon rises

orange and full

I miss you

I miss you

I miss you.

there are nights like this

when all my answers

don’t mean anything

and it all just hurts.

i know you don’t feel the same

i know it doesn’t matter anymore

i know.

but i miss you

and i’d do anything

anything

to have you back.

but that’s just me.

and one person out of two

isn’t enough.

i’ve been telling myself

that i’ll get used to being alone

that i’ll always miss you but

it’ll be fine.

but tonight–

tonight i’m just not okay with that

and it feels insane to think

i’ll ever be.

but it doesn’t matter how i feel

because you–

you’re already okay.

i’ve been carrying you around

like some kind of talisman

memories to keep me warm

and now–now i feel like

i don’t even

have that.

i bury them deep

deeper than they already were

and it’s supposed to make me feel better

but it just makes me  feel cold.

how can i think about a lifetime alone

when i can’t even handle

tonight?

Yesterday, I drove to northern Virginia, looking for answers.

Correction, I’ve been looking for answers. For days. Weeks. Ever since I started to wonder if  really had to make that decision I made three years ago. Was I influenced by my family? my friends? the culture I grew up in? I took a deep dive. Hence, “rant I will probably regret.” Let’s just say, day one was rough.

I sat across from my friend. I hadn’t seen her in years, but she was there for me anyway. What did surprise me… is that she remembered you. And how hard I fell for you that semester. She remembered everything. She didn’t look at me like I was crazy when I spilled all my doubts and fears and hurt and love all over that Starbucks table. I needed that.

Here’s the thing… I know it’s ridiculous to be thinking about this now. I know… I know I’ve lost my chance. It’s too late. I’m too late. Maybe that’s why I’ve been filled with so much regret. I don’t blame you. But that doesn’t make it hurt less. Still… I’ve needed to answer this question for myself. Could I have made a different choice?

She doesn’t tell me what to believe. Doesn’t tell me I’m crazy, or weird, or whatever. Doesn’t tell me she knows all the answers. But by the time I’m getting back in my car to drive home… I have my answer.

And it’s not what I wanted.

I wanted to be wrong. Just like I’ve always wanted to be wrong. But I don’t get to control truth. And the truth is we are like two puzzle pieces that almost match. Almost. But that almost… it will always prevent a perfect fit. And I may be willing to take that on–I might not care–but God does. And he says it’s not right.

Oddly enough though… he’s okay with me loving you. He loves you so much more than I do himself. That’s not the problem. The problem is that there’s no true commitment without him involved. No true unity or love that is going to last. And if I want my life to mirror what he wants for me… that’s not going to be it.

I hate that.

But at the end of the day… I know again that I made the only choice I could make. Do I wish it ended up differently? Yeah.

Of course I do.

You always told me not to wait for you. And here’s the thing–I don’t believe there’s only one person in the world for each of us. People are more complex than that. I believe there are other people out there for me, just like there is for you. And it’s not like I haven’t met some of those people. Heck, I had to tell a dear friend just a few days ago that I could never be with him. And that’s the second guy in the last year. I’ve met kind and attractive people who really care about me and who’d want to try a relationship… and as nice it would be to be cared about, I’m just not interested. Here’s the thing… I’m not “holding out” for you, or “playing the long game,” or whatever. I know that this is probably it for us. I know that me wanting something can’t make it happen. I get that. I know that you’re over it. Nothing I do can change that. I’m not rejecting people because I’m waiting for you. I honestly don’t want anyone else. I’m just not interested. They’re not you. I just can’t bring myself to care that much. I know that doesn’t make much sense to most people, and that’s fine–I get it, I’m weird. But I am what I am.

I know no one is perfect. I know every person has pros and cons, you included. I’m under no illusions. But at the end of the day, love is both a feeling and a choice. And feelings rise and fall. It’s the choice that matters. And every day, my heart chooses you. With all the mess. And emptiness. And knowing that this is probably it for us. Maybe one day, I’ll wake up and not want to make that choice anymore. And that would be fine.

But I think…. I think I know myself pretty darn well.

And I know better than that.

I didn’t realize

I had anything left

to lose.

 

 

I did.

The shock did not surprise me

neither did the pain

but what did was the smile

that would not stop.

how can I not feel happiness

looking at the boy

I love so d*mn much?

a lot of emotions in me.

not enough right words.

so this is all I have tonight.

hard day.

you were here, then you weren’t

and no one told me.

what would I have done, anyway?

nothing. not my place.

ran to the river. the irony.

listened to ‘go easy’ by m.m. on repeat.

watched the pup’s ears bob.

I don’t regret even a second

of loving you.

just really tired.

I want to talk to you.

don’t care about what.

I’d be happy to just

listen.

if the phone rang

I’d answer.

no strings attached.

promise.

three years,

and I still feel lonely when spring

stretches green in the winds

when the buds start to reach

for the warming sky.

three years,

and I still dream about you

and still wake up wanting

and wishing.

three years, and you’d think

I’d be over it–

at least, that’s what

everyone else says.

no wonder I keep myself,

well, to myself.

three years, and some things

are better, and some things

never change.

I still feel like I made

the only decision.

I still hate myself for it.

I never meant to cause

such silence.

three years, and I still believe

we would be better

together

than any version

of apart.

three years, and I am thankful

for the days that remind me

there is still light on the mountaintops

there is a warm dog to snuggle me

when the night is too dark

but I’m still keenly aware

each moment would be better

with you in it.

three years, and I still believe

the question is never

would you find faith–

no, that’s a promise, to whoever

doesn’t give up. a promise

that still stands. the question

was always, would you

keep looking.

I don’t blame you for not

believing me, even as

I wish you would.

three years and I want

you to know– I tried to stop

believing

just like you tried to believe.

I couldn’t.

you can’t unknow the truth

can’t unsee the sun

just like I

can’t unlove

you.

I play with sillyputty in the counselor’s office. I knead it over and over, pressing it with my thumb, rolling it into spheres, squishing it into cubes. I like it better than playing with the hairband on my wrist, like I always do when I’m nervous or awkward, like the way you fiddle with your phone when you’re unsure what to do. I don’t know how the words keep tumbling out of me, every time I come here. Maybe because I believe she really wants to listen. Maybe because she doesn’t mind that I’m a teary mess. Maybe because she doesn’t seem to mind… well, me. I don’t know how I have so much to say… well, actually, I guess I do. Bottling up nearly three years’ worth of emotions will do that to anyone. I talk about all the things I can’t talk about with anyone else–my fears, my hopes, my memories, my pain, my present, my past, my hidden places. I stopped talking a long time ago. No one understands me the way I wish they would. If you were here, I’d talk to you. But you’re not. So the words stay inside. The hour always feels too short. I can’t believe I’m saying that–I resisted going for so long. But I didn’t know how the release would feel like breathing clean air, how freeing it is not to be judged or squished into a box, someone else’s idea of me. It’s a relief. An exhausting, difficult, scary relief, but still relief. Being heard is sometimes the best therapy there is… besides dogs and mountains and prayer. Afterward, I treat myself to donuts, for the second week in a row. Did you know that you were the first, and perhaps only, person who truly helped me try to love my body the way it is? I think about that when I go get donuts, trying to do something kind for myself after I do something hard. I’ve been trying to be kind to myself in general. It’s hard. You were always so good at helping me remember. I hope you remember to do it for yourself too.