coast starlight

tomorrow morning you’ll be boarding a twelve hour train ride from san francisco, to los angeles to carry on with your journey. while part of me knows this means you’re inching closer to getting onto a plane back to our chilly canadian city, it has the other part of me conflicted.

i googled pictures of the coast starlight. of the beautiful scenery you’ll get to soak in; this extraordinary gift you’re giving yourself. and while i am thrilled for you, i couldn’t help but sift through these images and be jealous. and then angry. and then unbelievably sad. maybe it’s because i know i am a nervous traveler, and it would kill me not to experience such beauty with someone i love. or maybe it’s because i resent you for leaving me -this- to set off on these adventures by yourself.

i know it isn’t the case.

but the longer you are gone, the angrier i am getting.

the less patience i have.

i’ve waited for you- my god, i have fucking waited.

and the night before you left, i wrote you a long-winded letter. it’s a few pages long, and i wrote it in pen, and it fucking rhymes. i was clutching it between my little fingers on the car ride to the airport, and my heart was pounding so loud in my chest i could barely hear anything you were saying. i was fighting back the tears, and looking out the window. and every time i caught you looking at me- at my hands, in my eyes… i felt smaller, and smaller. like nothing i could possibly do even mattered, because you were going to get out of that car, and throw your duffel bag over your shoulder, hug me long and hard one last time, and then you were going to get on that stupid plane.

i breathed you in one last time- your t-shirt smelling of my laundry detergent, your hair smelling of my products, and your neck smelling like you always have (safe, comforting), and i crumpled up the letter in my hand, and let you walk away without giving it to you.

you’re not really a “letter” kind of guy, anyway.

that’s where i question things.

i let you see me all snotty, and sick. you let me sleep for days in your bed when i was too ill to make it home. you throw me over your shoulder, and put me in the cart at the grocery store and help me with my groceries when i am too injured to walk. you stay up all night watching our favourite shows and making me laugh, and scratching my head til i fall asleep… you give me fresh produce from your fridge, hang all your clothes in my closet, and take me to dinner regularly. you have clearly become one of the most important people in my life, and yet i didn’t have the courage to give you my shitty, rhyming love letter.

the way i feel about you hasn’t changed in the least. it’s just that i am beginning to question how long i can idly sit by and watch my life happen, while you’re away. i can’t promise that i haven’t fallen for someone else, or let my heart wander. i can’t promise that i haven’t kissed his lips and felt everything inside of me go to mush. and i can’t promise that when he smiles at me, that i don’t feel it in the pit of my stomach, either. i am only human, and you need to understand that while i whole-heartedly love everything about you, everything that makes you who you are… i can’t help but worry that my feelings aren’t being looked out for. and although a part of me wants to crawl under my covers, cry, and wait for you to come home, a bigger part of me wants independence. and freedom. and love.

i want love, okay?

and you know what never fucking worked for me?

hope.

i can’t just hope you’ll want me when you come home- and i’m really beginning to question whether my heart could even handle rejection from you. i’m not sure i’ve prepared myself enough to put myself in that kind of position.

- an excerpt from the letter

i can still fill my days trying- because i’m yours from the bottom to the top, and i’m not just saying i’ll be here for you, i’m saying i‘ll never stop.

and you know what hurts the most?

that i just might stop.