July 2019

You didn't even remember my birthday. The sad 24 of july, the sad waiting. Even the weather was acceptable to my mood, thick drops of rain and cold wind didn't help.

It was Sunday when we last spoke on the phone. I was at sea the day before with my best friend. You knew where I was and you knew that it was a surprise for my birthday.

You even texted me that evening, if I'm home from the sea yet. I replied.

I shouldn't have.

On Sunday I woke up to a text.

It sad that I should leave you alone. That we never had anything.

I knew that the message was from her.

And you called me an hour later to explain.

It happened two weeks ago, you said.

She texted you, saying sorry, wanting you back.

You said you didn't know what to do, you're thinking it over.

But why? Why can't you just choose me?

We were so close.

So fucking close.

I cut my wrists that day. Yet you didn't know, you never will.

I wish I could remember our conversation on the phone, but more I think about it the more it slips away.

I wish that I listened. And remembered.

I think that I was so hurt that I didn't want to hear it. But I know you explained some things.

I just can't remember

I remember just the regret, the betrayal... The hurt.

I remember thinking that I need to get this out.

So I did. A few cuts, a few drops of blood and I was freed from pain.

But that only lasted for a day.

Now I'm struggling. I want to do it again. But I'm afraid I'll go too far.

I don't want to die. I just want to not feel.

I haven't heard from you in a week. And I'm afraid to text you.

I don't want to destroy your happiness with her, even if it destroys me.

That is how much I love you.