I wonder what it means, the fact that I never wrote about you. I always thought it was because everything I’d come up with would never come close to the actual way you made me feel. I’d be in an infinite spiral of writing and deleting and writing and deleting. With everything that comes out of me falling mute against the abrasive beauty of you. But now, I’m wondering if the reason we ended things was because I never tried. Now I’m wondering if anything in this world ever deserves to be unspoken about. I place you so high. You’re so high on the totem that the only thing I can truly make out is the blurry outline of what you try to be. So high on the totem that everything I can’t see, I replace with the false idea of perfection. When in reality, you pissed me the fuck off. When in reality, everything you kept from me only helped propel that false idea of perfection higher than what any human could ever attain. I wish I could have been there for you. I wish I could have woven my feelings into an embrace fit solely for you to feel protected in. I wish you gave me that pattern. You liked being high on the totem. You liked the feeling of me overlaying that blur with perfection. It meant they didn’t see the details that you so desperately wanted to erase yourself. Time with someone is a climb of their totem. And when you finally felt I was face to face with you, you pushed me back down. It was easy to, because I’m so good at screaming the details you don’t like about yourself into the stratosphere for all the gods to hear. SHE ISN’T ONE OF YOU. AND NEITHER AM I. I’ve never been. Because gods don’t exist. And neither does perfection. But, for some reason with you, it did. For some reason with you, I wanted it to. God must be so lonely up there.

You made me feel like everything I’ve accumulated onto the ever molding clay figure of me, meant something bigger than I could’ve ever imagined. I liked the way your hands felt helping me change my shape. My heart wanted it forever.

I hope I made you feel that way too. Even if it was just for a second.

I loved the way you pissed me off.