Dear... Until My Last Breath
T,
I've said many hurtful things. Because I hurt inside. Forty years worth, and counting still. You know, I still look for you every chance I get, in the same old places. I haven’t slept in on a weekend in almost 9 years because I sleep on pins and needles in anticipation of seeing you parked there. I know you don’t come for me, I know that sometimes you do see me. And I wonder what you think.
Is he insane? Does he mean me harm? Why does he come here if he never even stops to have a word?
I cannot answer any of those questions, other than to say I am a tortured man. It is enough for me just to know you are alive. I have never stopped loving you. And I cannot bear it any longer.
In these strange times it is worse than ever. I miss you, and I have had a different perspective lately with regards to you. I figured we would die in our beds someday, years from now, apart and alone, never having had the third chance to reconcile, be adults, and admit what we both know. There was something special with you and I. Special, as in, once in a lifetime. And we blew it. And I know it, and I own my part in it.
Please flash your lights, or wave, or somehow acknowledge me. I am still on this earth, and I still love you deeply. I just have no way to show it...
So, until that last breath, my heart - at least some of it - is yours, and it will never belong to another.
YRAILY.