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This is too hard for me. I was going to stop reading after tomorrow, the end of the 30 days. I was going to be happy for you and wave goodbye in my mind, knowing you were ok. Then, things started to fall apart for you. A few days later and, I never would have known.
I can't be here for you anymore. I can't be the one you fall back on. I can't stand behind you anymore in case you fall. I can't be the one to catch you. I can't worry about you anymore. I can't write you messages here. I can't wonder if you're ok, if you're happy, if you need me. I can't stop sobbing. I can't breathe. I can't, I can't, I can't.
I thought you hated me. I thought you'd never want to speak to me again. I thought the last thing you'd ever want was to hear my voice. I thought I couldn't feel anything anymore. I guess I was wrong.
I don't know that you've ever seen me cry. I've seen you cry and it always broke my heart. I know you don't need anyone telling you the mistakes you've made. I always feel guilty if I'm happy and you're sad. I'm always afraid to act on that and later be told it wasn't appreciated or worse, it was a joke. I don't like to be laughed at. I don't like to be told I am stupid for caring. I don't like to be vulnerable. I don't like to see other people hurt. I don't like to hurt.
Yesterday all I could think was "what if she has no one? what if she ends up homeless? what if she needs me?" Maybe that's my ego talking, but it speaks out of concern. I can't think like that anymore.
You're going to be ok. You don't need me. You don't have to justify yourself to me, or worry about how I feel. You don't need to hear me say that I care about you because you know that I do. I don't need to be here for you to know that. As much as I care, I will judge you for a past you can't change and for the lessons you haven't learned yet, and you will grow angry with me for my discontentment, just as it's always been.
I'm closing my eyes now. I'm sure I'm not finished crying, but for now, at least, I am done. I've always kind of had this fantasy about us. Not the typical kind, where someone gets swept off their feet, but the kind you would have about a ghost. I imagine we're driving, we've been driving, for over a year. Sometimes you drive while I sleep. There's no map and no known destination, but we keep ahead nonetheless. After what feels like a million miles, we come upon this little town. I run into the general store for a minute while you're using the bathroom at the local saloon. I know in my belly, not in my mind, that there is little time left for us. I make my purchases ... some ginger for my growing upset stomach, a magazine, a diet coke and a butterfly for you, on fishing line made out of red clay. You come walking out of the swinging wooden doors as I make my way to meet you, smiling and shaking your head. I ask you what's the matter, though you don't look upset, and I know what's coming. You tell me that the bartender really needs another cocktail waitress, and there's a room for rent upstairs above the bar. I know you don't mean for the both of us, and you know I can't stay.
I've never been back to that little town. Tried a few times, but I never could find it. I don't have to, though. I know you're working in that bar, telling stories of your old life on the busy nights as you refill glasses, and singing about your dreams on the slow nights. I know that butterfly is hanging in the window above the bar, and I remember that smile, as I drove away. No waving, no sad goodbyes, just the light on your face, the dust from the road, and that genuine smile making it possible for me to go, and I can still see it, many miles down the road. A part of you will always be riding with me, and a part of me will be there at your side, maybe playing the piano while you sing. Sometimes I think I see you, a flash of red hair, a laugh that sounds like windchimes dancing in the breeze, and sometimes you turn around to hear a familiar melody, a few notes over the crowd of voices, but it turns out to be something different altogether. For a moment, though, my mind travels back to that dusty little town, and I remember every mile, every stoplight, every gas station, every song on the radio. I'll remember you, and I'll smile.
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