To The Boy Who Once Made Me Happy

//It’s a little funny how I tried writing a piece titled “To The Boy Who Makes Me Happy” a few months back but never got past the title. I guess misery is a better catalyst to writing than contentment.//

To the boy who once made me happy,

I wish I was as good with words and wits as you are, so my tongue would serve me better in your presence than my fingers clacking against the keyboard alone in the dark. I wish I had a better memory so I could keep the time I spent with you in my pockets and find my escape in them when things got hard. I wish I could be that person you fell in love with a little longer than I did.

I know your love isn’t the same as mine but how would I even know what love is to me before experiencing it for myself? All I know is that I was so happy to be with you, to listen to you talk about twisted monk theories over glasses of rum on that rugged bed that detached and left that annoying space in between, that space that would persist to be there no matter how hard you tried to bring those two beds together, god dammit that space. I guess you can never force attachments onto somethings.

I don’t know why but I do wonder sometimes if things could be different in a universe where I were a little older, a little more experienced, a little more entitled, and a little more smarter. But I wasn’t, and I felt lonely and weak when things went bad. I wish you were there when they did. I wish you were there when my sister hit me so hard that I couldn’t open my mouth for days, I wish you were there when my mother told me I was a disappointment to my family, I wish you were there when I left all of that behind and came here. I wish you didn’t call me a bad person and I wish we never broke up and I wish you were joking about calling prostitutes at home and I wish you didn’t really bring other girls over either because it breaks my heart so much still, I can barely continue to type. I wish I was enough for you, you know. I wish I was more than enough. I wish you longed for me as much as I longed for you, and your voice, and your skin, and your bones, and your soul. But I never will be and I will learn to live with that.

Thank you for all the memories and all the love. I will always carry a piece of you in my heart.

Yours truly.





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