But I Miss Your Face Like Hell

I've never had anything real before you. And despite my own willingness to write off what we had, I know it was as real as real gets. But there are things you can do someone you love that they can never forget. You can break something beautiful beyond repair. And God knows why we do these things to each other, but I guess that's how we keep motion in our lives. I don't know why you let me go the way you did, and you've made it clear I never will. But the thing is, I loved you, I really loved you, and you only loved me when you needed me. So tonight, I'm going to actually do what I've been saying I would for months and let you go. Thank you for teaching me, dealing with me, giving me so many moments that I only remember with joy and appreciation. I hope you find what you were looking for, I hope you find your will to live again, and I hope you find someone to breathe life into your every day. I won't call or write, and I won't ever say your name again. This is over, and I accept you as a vague and wonderful memory. Good luck. Love, me.

P Pan

I've said it before, but I am ill equipped when it comes to goodbyes. But this is especially pertinent when the goodbye itself is not paired with a reason. No jagged set of final words, no raised voices, or the somber pressure of the last hug. And It eats me alive when I have no grounds for letting go. Absence can be defended in the mind. You can invent stories; tell yourself they got in a threshing car accident, unable to contact you or voice their need for you to the bedside attendant. You can convince yourself that their reasons ultimately benefit you, that their selfishness is just a clever disguise for a selfless sacrifice. When you can't look them in the eye and pan for guilt or anger, it becomes a fitting reaction to defend them with a handful of beautiful memories and blind faith. So what do you do? You keep a vigilant look out for that blue, two door, Honda Civic parked on the curb. Does that make you a failure to yourself and the people who believe you to be a strong and independent individual?

You are like smoke to me. You signal heat, and energy. Where you rise, incredible things have happened. Things have burned, things have lived so violently that they thrust you out of their pores. You are ominous and significant as a symbol of birth and death. But by the time you are taken note of, you begin to flicker and fade. You dissipate into the surrounding air of innocuous normality. I reach out to grab you, to hold onto your drama, but all I get is a second-long sting and ash-blackened palms. I want you back, I want you back smoke. Because without you these blue skies will drive me straight into the ground. And I promised you we'd do that together, you push the dirt in handfuls over my eyes and I'll pack it tight around your chest until the breathing stops. Fading is slow and beautiful when you do it side by side with your best friend.