i’m listening to silence and distance. the sixth remix. the final. remembering the dream i had. the one where we were long time gone from one another. i told you about it. i remember how you insisted that could never happen. i told myself i believe it because i wanted to believe it.
gone binary. i’d wonder about that, but i won’t let myself. moot.
oddly, i haven’t cried about it. comfortably numb. or something.
i can’t tell if i’m sick to my stomach for being angry or being hurt. jumbled. they tend to run close together. always have, i suppose.
i do miss you, but i don’t miss the you that you’ve become. i miss the you that i knew before that. the you that wasn’t shut off, forever editing, and reminding me at every turn of it.
i miss the you that i made music with.
actually, i think i just miss the you that used to miss me.
i’m letting go, of course. but slowly, as usual. i’m glad you have an easier time of it.
another letter/email i won’t send, this. just muttering to myself in the quiet night.
post it private. hide it for a while until the sting fades…. until those reading can’t tell if it’s real or not…. until it no longer matters.