And so I do, even if it is a year later.
A year ago, we were in LA, witnessing love and pretending to be walking that road... Or at least I was pretending. You were just lashing out, pissed off from stupid annoyances; reacting like a child who hasn't gotten her way.
But today, a year later but decades smarter (or so I want to believe), I watched the video of that day. I saw myself huddled in on myself. Cowering. Afraid. Tiny. Nothing.
And I saw.
I saw all that everyone- except for her- was afraid to say.
So, I sit here; rubbing my eyes; trying not to feel shame because I spent so much time collapsed in on myself, trying to disappear while wishing you could see me for even a second.
And my eyes leak, crying for the first time in months, wishing I could meet with the dragons, wanting to sleep with strangers who would inevitably fall in love with me, or so they would believe. But they wouldn't.
As you didn't.
And so I learned to see; the feeling of loneliness; my needs; how triggers manifest; what it might feel like to attach; and why I shouldn't.
"Maybe we can connect when neither of us are hung up on someone else" she said.
And I wanted to reply "don't go."
But I wasn't sure if I was talking to you, to her, or to myself.
You have already gone; and so has she... so that just leaves me.
And I see.