For You Who Will Never Read It

That place. The place where I used to fear being, where I used to mourn and ponder until my thoughts and actions bore forth pure exhaustion and isolation, it was never morning but always dusk in shades of silent gray. This is where you left me, a half-hearted hope for your return. Here, where my patience was planted to grow structures of confidence, personal opinions, and maturity. Here, in your absence.

When you appeared again, I didn't need assistance anymore but a partnership - that which you provided more vibrantly and happily than the visions of finest imagination. The day was dawning again with love on the horizon, painting my sky a brilliant array of promises and words, framing scenes of the future. Up the slope you lead me, grabbing my hand once again. We both climbed to watch the sunrise that greeted us as we reached the top.

But here, you slowly yet progressively moved closer to the edge. Little did I know you were preparing for a fall. Little did I know, it was only for yourself. I had never imagined color could be so toxic, eating at heart strings in the darkest of the night, when loss is at its ugliest.

So at the very edge, I pushed you... only because it's what you desired in the ended. I couldn't watch you jump this time, knowing it was your decision. So it became mine, intertwined in the downward spiral of our breakdown. But still, off the edge you carelessly fly. I hope you can realize that flying isn't forever; eventually you'll fall and crash again.

And me, left in this place where love has died at the hands of lust and lies and youthfully ignorance. This place that I'll walk away from - to heal and to journey into the light of a new morning, one that you'll never get to see. And in the new light I'll regain strength from the darkness. And to our place, I will never return.