I am too sad to write well today and some days are like that. I just miss her.
Outside it's beautiful; the trees are in bloom and the sun is bright. I'm happy too, in a way. Can I say I am at peace with her absence? Close. I still want to bring her back.
No, I cannot change her mind. She always was so stubborn. When I needed her most she was gone, and I should be angry.
Every night I would visit her in my dreams and reach out to her, and she would run away every time. Those dreams kept me from forgetting and it kept the pain alive when I was ready to move on. She kept digging her thumb into the wound, yet when I awoke she wouldn't touch me when I longed for her hand on my shoulder.
I know I hurt her. I just meant to hurt myself; I wanted her to be happy.
I wish I knew what she thought of me, of the Fight, of the darkness I have entered since her absence. I wish she would tell me. I didn't know I loved her so until I hated her.
I feel like I'm a ghost to her, like I died that morning when I almost died, and to her it made no difference at all. To her, she'd rather I was dead; then she would never have to deal with the shame of bumping into me, or my calls, or my begging for her silence to end. That's what hurts the most.
I want to know the pain I've caused her and make it better. But she has hurt me too, and just as much; she doesn't want to take it back the way I do.
I wish she'd yelled at me. I wish she'd screamed and cried for days, I wish she'd hit me almost and I guess I would have known she loved me. Nothing she could have done or said to me would have been as bad as this. The silence is worse, because all I have is my imagination to understand. I feel like loving her is wrong, but I can't run away. I would be doing what she has done.
She said she wanted to understand why I did it.
I guess it's because she's not the only one who's done this.
A great burden it is, to carry the knowledge that out there someone abhors you, and that they are right to do so.