It's been a long time coming. Two years in the making. I've kept trying to will myself to it... to force it, to make it manifest. But after giving up this attempt to twist it's arm, the letting go is finally taking place. I'm finally at the point where all the memory is being abandoned in the face of my own understanding. So many things mulled, considered, questioned. And finally I know I'm going to be okay.
I know it's over. I hoped and prayed and desperately desired to hold on to the remnants, hoping that something would come from all the pining and praying and wishing. But I find myself looking back, knowing that this new understanding and sense of calm will be carrying me forward in this life that's been waiting on the doorstep for so long. I guess I let it in after it waited on the porch through the cold. Just as the BoHai Sea begins to thaw, so do I.
I wrote the following four poems in December when I was going through a week or two of missing her. I miss her still, but not in a way of longing. Just in a way of wishing that it hadn't been so miserable. I've finally let her go, and I think we finally are letting the past be the past. I don't know why I neglected to publish them... I know part of it was because I thought the poems were rubbish, but I just want to put them out there so they're not lingering in the drafts folder. I guess it's partly cathartic. I know it's time. It's been time for months. But it's finally happening. And I'm so excited about what's to come. The bitterness and anxiety and desperate longing have faded, and now I'm just staring a big, beautiful and uncertain life in the face. People used to attend Shakespeare performances as a method of experiences this catharsis. This is my method. The poems are untitled (as usual). Remember, these were written nearly 3 months ago and definitely reflect the time.
You're packing up your life
And moving across town.
All the remaining memories
You've kept shut up in that extra room
Are going to creep out and haunt you
Even if it's only for a little while.
Everything that I was to you
Everything that still remains
Of me is in that room.
You don't see my reflection
In the portraits on the wall.
Everything we were together
Remains in that closet
In those boxes I left behind.
I carried on naive hopes
Of coming back some day
And making myself at home again.
You probably think I left you and us behind
And now you're leaving what's left of you and I.
That town, it held some promise
Of a life that was to come...
A new start where we'd walk on, you and me.
I remember walking down those streets
Whispering to them, asking them if they'd mind
If we stuck around a while and made a life there.
I guess the answer got lost in the wind
Or the snowy cold
Since it wasn't a town for us
But was a town for you.
Now it's a town I'll never return to.
Maybe you have all the answers
Now that you've shed your guilty conscience
But I don't have that luxury.
The best I hope for is that the sadness
Doesn't sink too far under my skin
And if I hope hard enough
A little hope and excitement will return
For me, and for a new life without you.
____________________________________________________
I know it's over. I hoped and prayed and desperately desired to hold on to the remnants, hoping that something would come from all the pining and praying and wishing. But I find myself looking back, knowing that this new understanding and sense of calm will be carrying me forward in this life that's been waiting on the doorstep for so long. I guess I let it in after it waited on the porch through the cold. Just as the BoHai Sea begins to thaw, so do I.
I wrote the following four poems in December when I was going through a week or two of missing her. I miss her still, but not in a way of longing. Just in a way of wishing that it hadn't been so miserable. I've finally let her go, and I think we finally are letting the past be the past. I don't know why I neglected to publish them... I know part of it was because I thought the poems were rubbish, but I just want to put them out there so they're not lingering in the drafts folder. I guess it's partly cathartic. I know it's time. It's been time for months. But it's finally happening. And I'm so excited about what's to come. The bitterness and anxiety and desperate longing have faded, and now I'm just staring a big, beautiful and uncertain life in the face. People used to attend Shakespeare performances as a method of experiences this catharsis. This is my method. The poems are untitled (as usual). Remember, these were written nearly 3 months ago and definitely reflect the time.
You're packing up your life
And moving across town.
All the remaining memories
You've kept shut up in that extra room
Are going to creep out and haunt you
Even if it's only for a little while.
Everything that I was to you
Everything that still remains
Of me is in that room.
You don't see my reflection
In the portraits on the wall.
Everything we were together
Remains in that closet
In those boxes I left behind.
I carried on naive hopes
Of coming back some day
And making myself at home again.
You probably think I left you and us behind
And now you're leaving what's left of you and I.
That town, it held some promise
Of a life that was to come...
A new start where we'd walk on, you and me.
I remember walking down those streets
Whispering to them, asking them if they'd mind
If we stuck around a while and made a life there.
I guess the answer got lost in the wind
Or the snowy cold
Since it wasn't a town for us
But was a town for you.
Now it's a town I'll never return to.
Maybe you have all the answers
Now that you've shed your guilty conscience
But I don't have that luxury.
The best I hope for is that the sadness
Doesn't sink too far under my skin
And if I hope hard enough
A little hope and excitement will return
For me, and for a new life without you.
____________________________________________________
I said, "It's nice to meet you," after telling her my name
She said, "I can see the lingering sadness behind your eyes."
I asked, "Can I buy you a coffee or dinner sometime?"
She said, "Not until you stop asking why, lord, why."
I told her, "I love the way you smiled back there."
She said, "You're holding on to something you can't leave behind."
I asked, "Are you doing something new with the colour of your hair?"
She replied, "The only thing you need to change is all that's in your mind."
It's high time to walk the new road now
No more faking it along the way
The only thing worth finding is what I know
Even though I won't find you at the end of the day
The signs have all been pointing
To all you haven't said
But in all this constant silence
I found what I knew I'd dread
Goodbye. Goodbye.
There's no way to dance around it all.
Goodbye. Goodbye.
It's time to say goodbye.
______________________________________________
Tonight my reflection in the window
Seems nothing like the man I knew in the past
I'm not sure whose eyes are looking
Back at me
I've been reflecting on all the memories we'll bury
And how I thought it'd last
Now I'm not sure what I'm feeling
As I fall silently asleep
My eyes are adjusting to the darkness
And my skin stopped sensing the cold
Within the shadows I'm not sure what's lurking
Other than a little misery.
This is everything I've been coming to
My memory is shed, and everything is new
The only thing left is everything I want to do
And everything I leave behind is all I did for you.
_______________________________________________
I left the door open after I got home tonight
I'm leaving it that way until midnight
Maybe you'll catch a cab
Or walk by sometime around eleven
Then we'll talk until the sun rises
Like friends who used to know each other
I left the door open again all week
It'll probably stay that way until Friday
Just in case you can catch a flight
Or find the the train into town and stop by
For a few minutes
Or for the rest of your life.
Maybe we can catch a movie and talk about
The way it all seems to work out in the end
I've been keeping the door ajar all year
Just enough to let you know you can still come in
But the house is getting cold and all the plants are dying
I've got blankets piled up around me
But the position of the door ain't changing
Is there chance you'll be here by the new year?
I've got a little more wood to burn but soon
It'll all be frozen.
The door isn't closing, but this time I ain't to blame
I can't take responsibility for leaving it open
I've been stuck in the same position
For a whole year now, never leaving
My place on the chair beside the empty, ash-laden fireplace
I'm not moving anywhere anymore
I guess there's no sense in talking to the bones
They're not going anywhere
I don't feel the cold anymore like I used to
But then again, there's so much I got used to.
The draught from the door does little more
Than to rustle the dust beneath my feet.
I spring awake as I hear the door click shut
Was it blown closed by the spring air
Beyond the windows?
I'm hearing footsteps steadily approaching
I'm wondering who that could be
But soon I realize it's the sound of my own feet
And it wasn't the wind but my hands upon the door
That made the latch click shut
I have my keys in hand and am walking toward the car
No longer on the inside of all the waiting
I'll be gone a while, and I'll be travelling far.
T
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