Haunted

Don’t freak out. I've been staying awake at night wondering if I should tell you I love you. Last night I bought the kind of crackers you like. I put the lid back on your toothpaste. I gave you my opinion on those pants that are too big on you, when you asked. I’ve been telling you I love you long before the words left my mouth.

Reading made me realize, that there are sentences that make it hard to tell, if they were born out of a love letter, or a suicide note. Like for example, "I always thought this was the kind of thing that would happen without warning, like suddenly, on an ocean cliff side, but this is the kind of moment where waiting for the time to be right would mean waiting forever."

I came home on Tuesday and found all of the chars I own stacked in a tower in the middle of the kitchen. I don't know how long they've been like that but it can only be me that did it. It’s the kind of thing a ghost would do  to prove to the living that she is still there. 

I am haunting myself. 

I'm glad I told you. Otherwise I would have never forgiven myself for all the things that would've gone unsaid 

I knew the risks, but how else can you tell if something is hot if you don't risk touching it? Giving you those words like a golden vase containing every piece of me inside it was worth the heat, even if it meant getting burned, and screaming for hours.

I wonder if you threw out my toothbrush.  How can something be there and then cease to exist? How do we forgive ourselves for all the things we did not become?