Not this time

I took them down today.

Each day as I sat at my computer desk, I looked up & there she was – there we were, smiling as if we had both won the impossible lottery & holding each other tight. It was the first time we had met, & I remember her thin fingers around me, her thin sinewy arms pulling me in tighter as if she was afraid to let me go again. Neither of us had a choice the first time she let go.
I was happy to stay, my arms saying the same things that hers did, never wanting to let go. This time, I had a choice. I had strength. We both had a choice.

Yet just as before, the choice needed to be made by both of us. It couldn’t work otherwise.

It has now been over 10 months since I last heard from her, and as the days & weeks progressed the images that I had of the first photos of us on nearly every wall in my apartment began to diminish in the joy they once brought me. My heart grew darker when I caught them in my gaze & I found myself quickly turning my eyes away if I happened to accidentally catch one in my sight.

This morning, I cleared my walls of any images of us. I wish I could say it was cleansing, that I felt better once it was done – but it only brought more anger & sorrow, raised the questions I still have again – the questions that were only met in silence… and I can’t help but wonder, just as I did every day as a child and nearly every day after that… what is wrong with me?
Perhaps something else I’ll never have the answer for…

all I know is that they never stay – but I always keep the pictures. This time however, I’m not fucking giving up so easily. Whatever may be wrong with me, I’m better than the way I’m being treated by her – and after searching for her for 25 years, after all I’ve been through – I deserve some goddamn answers.
If I had a car I would be on her doorstep within the next few days demanding them – I don’t give a fuck if it isn’t “fair” to her. She doesn’t get to pull this shit….. but as it is without a car, all I can do is send unanswered letters.
I fucking hate feeling helpless.

I then go online and the first thing I read is of David Bowie’s passing… and there is nothing left to say.

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