.
Will this post find you in good spirits? Will it find me? Who knows if it'll even post on the right date, if any of the posts I scheduled will be done so promptly.
I already know I'm missing you. Already hear your steps further themselves into the other direction at this, as both of yours did. Probably for good reason too.
What could I say? Would you want to know now?
Are we better off as ghosts?
Did you ever expect.. what happened to happen?
I didn't, nor did I possess much of this little sense to fathom such a loss.
Those three weeks after, of pure silence, I waited. For someone to say something, praying my birthday wouldn't be used as an excuse to finally speak up. "No one wants to be the asshole who doesn't say happy birthday on someone's birthday." Before then, it was more than evident that whatever thread held us somewhat together for almost a decade had been tearing itself away. The final remaining string was cut on the early morning of the sixth, when I found out a friend of mine died, and eight months prior. A revelation of horrors paired tightly against a hazy panic. How could a life like this be so pitiful?
I withdrew from everything and everyone. I didn't speak. My relapse, the issues with us, school, work drama, family problems, and news of my friends death on my birthday set me back. I blocked everyone on everything, then after two weeks, I undid that decision because what if something happened and you couldn't get to me?
I'm sorry more than you could ever know.
But you had so many ways of reaching me.
Alas, the truth was, you both never needed me. I already knew that. Was that the reason you both held on? For the sake of me? I was... baggage. Too broken. Too lost. No longer any fun. Had I ever been?
I'll miss you until I breathe my last breath.
Until there's nothing, nothing left of me.
