You have either filled or interrupted my thoughts more often in the last six months than you had when we were crazy rebellious grunge kids. Overly emotional teenagers, when everything meant something and nothing at all. The time when I clambered for you to love me back. Worship me the way I did you. Shower me with love and loyalty. These thoughts are different. Fear and concern for you waking a knot of anxiety like a serpent coiling in my belly. Reaching for ways to help you. Collecting your problems and swallowing them whole, making them my own.
As a teenager, I wasn’t very good at determining where I ended and other people began. Especially those I loved. In hindsight I see how my emotional supply and demand could feel overwhelming. Like waves relentlessly crashing around and over you. So desperate to be someone’s enough. Smothering the beauty and spontaneity out of relationships. I could drown a person in my dutifulness.
But all my flailing and floundering aiming to catch you, show you, call you my own never worked. I came up empty every time. Exhaustion and betrayal swept us apart. Life taught me how to be a little less, how to self preserve a little more.
Many years we existed this way. Two beings idly floating or actively treading in the same sea. Parallel or distant, occasional meetings. Often times afforded by fate more than intention.
Now I see life taking us down different streams. A bifurcation. For once, I am the one releasing you. Though I know now, it wasn’t really you. Just the image you projected like looking at something underwater. Refraction.
I am actively learning to let you go. Float on. In all that was and was not. In all that will never be. Surrendering with love rather than rage. Releasing you of all of my expectations. The spoken and unspoken bonds. Forgiving the inability for reciprocity and acknowledging my own eagerness. We are both free now to sink with our baggage or swim to survive. Untethered, anchors aweigh.