New Fragile Yellows

A letter to not send:

I think of you often, but more often when my friends’ own personal drama and relationship woes trigger my own past. It isn’t just you that has had such a profound presence in my life for such large amounts of time; past the amount of time I knew you, and certainly past an amount of time that is reasonable. Despite years in therapy unraveling my childhood traumas, understanding the shoddy wiring of the synapses in most my fundamental emotional growth, and the reasons why that occurred, I still cannot shut feelings off. It seems logic can coexist with emotion and I’m starting to wonder if that’s possibly worse than the ignorance created by overwhelming feelings. I can’t turn off feelings past where infatuation disguised itself as love and devotion was just wishful thinking…confused by the give and take of love and affection I was raised with. The terms of unconditional love are the most awful thing to skew for a new person in this world. These ghosts in my past that haunt me at least can serve as constant reminders to never do such a disservice to my future children.

I don’t think about the good times we had as much as the bad. I’m sure this is due in part to the fact that there were more bad times. Our connection was fast sweet and fast sour. The sweet is what’s unforgiving.

Your face, your smile that I had to work for, your laugh…even more work. Our long-winded conversations, effortless and comfortable no matter the subject matter. We were too open and giving of ourselves for two people who just met. We could never be anything but that, which may have been a problem in itself.

I can’t believe I left the mug you bought me on your doorstep. I don’t feel such intense emotions these days, and it’s rare for me to act out as such. You were right to be mad at me but I had a right to be mad too. Just so you know it was my favorite gift. Yet somehow you were still too self-absorbed and probably the opposite of romantic.

None of this writing is productive but I’m hoping that it’s healthier than letting thoughts crowd my mind. I never write it out anymore.

I have everything of real love, and the books, and the knowledge, so I guess I’ll continue to not understand.

I really just try to remind myself of how you’d go on about stupid shit, complaining, and forget I was even in the room. Or how I really didn’t have the mental stamina to handle your depression as much as I wanted to. Or the obvious part about how it isn’t in your nature to focus on one individual for long periods of time. Or how it seemed totally okay for you to purge all your emotional pains but scorn me when I related or did the same.

Isn’t it funny you can write out flaws of someone and truly recognize their negative impact in your life but simultaneously wish for another day with them, before it all went to hell?

The last time we talked I ran into you at the bar. It was the second time we spoke that night and I was dumb and drunk. This second time seemed to be authentic though, and to my surprise, you asked how I was doing. When I asked you in return, you went to speak right as I realized I forgot my sweater and then ran to get it. That was it. I so rudely cut you off and didn’t even offer a goodbye.

While I should use this as a moment that can symbolically serve me as a karma type of leveler, I can’t. I just feel very inconsiderate and the incredibly cold distance of running into someone you used to know, knowing they are someone you connected with on an extraordinary level, but who you no longer speak to. No longer share joys or sorrows with. Just past joys and sorrows that exist in some vacuum between you.

Do you feel that way too? Or did you? I imagine it as you feel nothing and put it behind you. Either way, I’ll never know.

Monday January 14th