induced coma (we both know how it ends)

one day, 

i won't write about you. 

you'll be offically dead. 

'till i'm strong enough to pull the plug, i'll hold on. 

and then, i'll sign the waiver and doll myself up for our funeral. 

your bday reminder popped up

isn't it crazy that we missed spending together our 29th and 30th year?

your pride and mine won't let us spend the rest of them together either. 

the other day i saw a movie, it was about not wasting time with seemingly trivial things, trivial fights. 

but my pain was real, i guess your feelings were too. 

i wish you (and i) could've been a better person.

my therapist told me your mom asked about me the other day, 

she wondered how i was doing... i miss her. 

she said we had drifted apart from eachother. 

does she know something i dont?

her tone wasn't final

but it often feels like it is.

i have so much to tell you. 

would you like to listen?

would i be able to listen to you? 

i wonder (more often that i'd like to admit) how to put an end to this.

a year ago i sent a postcard to you, did you know?

i was nervous for weeks,

apparently it never arrived. 

i cowardly took it as a signal.

last january i was at the end of the world (literally),

and thought about sending you another one (apparently it's a thing i do only in january),

i didn't (too much time has passed).

i guess i'm also afraid of what you could say,

some truths you never said because you loved me.

while you were growing tired of my endless bullshit. 

fair. 

why didn't you come find me?

although i'm not sure i would've open the door,

it would've amounted to something, right?

but you didn't fight. you didn't fight for us, and that's on you.

 

again, was it pride? or did you just wanted to use this as an excuse?

if so, well played. lol.