Why We Avoid Breakups
It's a Saturday night. I'm alone. Neither happy nor sad; simply reflective. I start browsing through old journals, and something I wrote curiously strikes me. Although over a year old, I find the words taking me back and leading me forward— simultaneously. I like the words and find them beautiful. Honest. Faltering. Certain. I hope you find them curious like I do. And no, I didn't make a mistake.
5.31.15 — "I only miss you at night"
When everything slows; when I remember I am alone. I miss London in the daytime, and the way the air tickled my nose and how Battersea Park blossomed with life. I miss feeling your arms. You were a comfort next to me. That— that's what I want back. When one is single for so long, and then has the taste of intimacy, it's more terrifying than ever to step once again into the world alone; especially when a world with you was safe, comfortable, and secure. You would give me the things that I wanted; foreign, security, a beautiful home in a good area. Buy me what I wanted. We would hike mountains and kiteboard together. You would be a good father. And I walked away; pushed you away.
Please, please, please let this not be a mistake.