of periphery...

Amidst a debris stained existence the only hope for persistence beyond reason was the promise of a time when nothing else would matter except for me and you.

I know I have no cause to whine, no reason really to mind the irritating nuances of being only human but it seems much more futile if I don’t deem these slumps in constitution worthy of notable mention. It feels a lot less like living if like an automaton I smile through every baseless day and every loveless night without so much as a look back at what’s been left behind.

For what’s been left behind may just have been passing time but for all of time to come my history will become whatever the fuck I choose for it to be.

I choose for you to be remembered and for me to hold on, for letting go smells too much like surrender and I’m way to pompous to admit defeat.

I’ve let go off your hand. Off the right to care, the need to understand. I’ve ceased to miss you and the need to kiss you no longer affects my plans. But I miss the stars that shone the night you held me closer to your heart than ever again.

I miss the street light that lit your tears as they dropped into my hand.

I miss the wet, quiet caress of the moment in which we thought we found the reason for your life and mine. I miss the smile I fell asleep with when you curled up against me and slept like you’d never rather be anywhere else.

I no longer feel the hunger to taste your cooking. I no longer need to have you do my bidding. I don’t yearn for us to share a bed or a room or even a life, per se. What I really want in fact is a safe distance. A buffer, so to say, between what we could have been and what we became.

So I refuse to yearn for you since I can’t anymore. And I choose instead to revere the peripheral moments that will willingly bear the burden of the imperfect love that you and I spawned and let die to save our egos. Moments don’t have egos you see, moments don’t have pride. They just hold feelings locked within their simple hearts and bring us reprieve when the longing grows too strong to ignore.