Dark Places

Dip back into the feeling. You know the one. Where you feel all your insecurities tingling your spine, sending anxiety up your body. The one where you feel hot and want to punch something. That is where you should be. Stay there until you fucking get it. Then get out. Let it happen slowly, feel it all and don't do what you normally do. You will at first. But, don't linger in it. It'll get harder to dip into it. Easier to get back out. But you need to do it again and again. Practice until it becomes a part of you. Knowing when you see your dark place and how to get out of it. Running doesn't help. You ran for too long. You can't escape the feelings. They follow you. You can ignore it but you couldn't for the last year. You had to face all of it. All at once. Somehow you got through it all. You didn't think you could. Or maybe you did after you realized what you needed to shed along the way. Whom you needed to ignore to get yourself back to where you belong. You knew what you needed to do all along and once it's done, you feel relieved. You hurt but it's a cleansing pain. One that takes you closer to your true self. One that leads you to where you need to be. Some decisions were made and they weren't wrong. They just might take you longer to come back. Space is always welcome but it's not always received in endearment. Understanding the difference has been a challenge for us both. I can't tell you how many times I felt alone and whole. That I felt like, this is what I need to feel right now even though it fucking sucks. That you should be here. But you weren't. And maybe that's what you needed to do for me to realize that I don't need you. Not in the way that I needed people before. I feel like the need is different. Like my soul was waiting for you for so long that it was happy and sad at the same time. Happy because you were finally near. Sad because we weren't ready. I needed to be deserted to find that I don't need someone else. All of those times in my past where I let go or pushed people away before it was time. How you felt like you were abandoned before you were able to let go. You needed to desert me to know what it felt like to be on the other side. To understand how hard it is to let go of someone even if you know how much you care. That sometimes people care and still need to move on. All along, I needed to love and then let go. I couldn't put any expectations or attachments to it. You couldn't ask for any. You wanted to expect things of others. You didn't mean to, but you did in your past. You wanted other people to take care of you and when they did, it wasn't right. It didn't fulfill. It left them feeling used and made you feel like an asshole. A user who took what he wanted from people who seemed to be willing to give. It wasn't right. You didn't get it until the rug was wrapped around you suffocating you and you couldn't break free. I wanted to take care of people and it always left me empty. I got used over and over and over again. I would willingly give all of my love to anyone who wanted it. I felt as though someone would wake up and realize one day. It never happened. I would get the rug pulled out from under me constantly until I walked off the rug. I didn't take care of you like you expected and you never expected it like I thought you would. I had to learn to give without giving out myself. You had to learn to accept without taking. It was a weird feeling for both of us. Somehow we clicked together in a weird way that was both painful and healing. It sucks that it hurt. It was good that it did. It made me realize my patterns and how to get out of them. I hope you learned from it, too. I understood, finally, that some people were not ready for me and I set them free but not before being sad and regretting it all. Regretting that I couldn't stop the train from crashing. I just let it happen and watched it. I then walked to a new track and got on. Somehow, we got on the same train. I used to live in the wreckage, taking blame for something that wasn't my fault. Not anymore. I know what happened. It was a number of things tied together. It's never just one person's fault. Sometimes, things just happen the way they need to. If you don't learn your lesson, it will crash and burn. The fact that this didn't crash and burn leads me to believe that we both understood we were not meant to be in the same car right now. I hate that. I hate the unknown of wondering if you really do feel the same or just appeased me in my pain. I have to hope you would tell me the truth. That you did love me. That you do. That you care about me. That this thing is more than either of us intended or understand, fully. I have to have faith that this is now about why we are here. It's not about us anymore. There's something we both have to do while we are here. I can't fathom how the train is still heading in the same direction, even if it seems like our cars are far apart right now. You moved to another car when I did, in the opposite direction. Racing to the unknown. I'm having faith I'll see you on the platform. Maybe not in this lifetime. But, someday. Not before we finish whatever it is we are here to do. For now, I am following my gut. I feel like moving my feet, so I do. I take luck in stride. Luck and new beginnings light my way whether I like it or not. It sounds like I haven't let you go and that's the weirdest part. Because, I haven't. But not in the way you think. Surrendering to my own path means letting you have all the space you need. I know that you'll reach out when you're ready and I just need to keep moving forward. Feeling you all the time and feeling whole. Letting go of you knowing that love will come back. Letting go of the idea of us because for what it was, it was everything for awhile. If all of this was part of what is to come, then I have no problem letting you go. If what I get in the end is better than what we have then it's worth it to let you go and that is really saying something.