Come Hell or high water/
Hey love. You probably won’t get this message, but—but it’s worth a try. It’s been years since we last saw each other. Twelve years three months six days and fourteen hours, to be exact.
I miss you more than I remember you now, you know.
I’m not sure where I am, the ship’s map was the first thing to shut down, but when... when I die, it’ll be between the stars. I don’t have much time left, this message is taking the last of the energy stores, so it’ll be soon, five minutes at most. I’m crying now, you know. Dammit. I won’t see you again, but if—if this message reaches you—reaches anyone, just know that I hope you’re happy. I hope you’re happy whoever you are, whatever you’re doing, whenever you live. Because you were what made me happy—makes me happy, and I’m gonna lose you in a bit, and—and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. So yeah, that got a bit sappy, but it’s true, every word of it. I think I deserve to be a little sappy right now.
Anyway, the fuel tanks’ running low and I have maybe a few minutes left, so I’ll wrap it up.
Love, if you’re hearing this, that means you found my—my body. So please, do what we decided to do if one of us died on a mission—you know the deal. Scatter my ashes to the stars, love. That way when you look up, I’m out there somewhere.
Just don’t ever forget that I love you.
Um, yeah, I guess that’s it.
See you between the stars, love.
/I won’t stop loving you.
"It is going to be okay" you repeat.
But mom, I don't want to be a survivor. I don't want every day to be a battle to be won and I don't want to keep fighting. I don't want to be strong anymore. I have been strong enough.
I would lie down on my back, and you would kiss my shoulder, and I would kiss your hand, and we would watch that cheesy tv show we used to, nothing to go back to, and I would stay there forever.
But today I am in a room I don't know, somewhere I have never been, and it should be exciting, it should. But it doesn't feel exciting. It feels bitter, and empty. And today who I thought was the love of my life told me he didn't love me anymore. But i felt empty before then, before he even met me. I am bitter, and empty, and I cry. And everytime that I am alone, I cry. The worst part is, I want to. I want to cry in your arms and never let go. So I cry in my arms and I try to let go.
I wanted to grow up, be eighteen and be free.
But here I am, eighteen years old, a whole life of travel and love, and surviving ahead of me, and I suddenly don't want this anymore. I want to go back and feel your arms around my small body that was never harmed, I want to go back and play figurines on the ground and laugh at silly jokes, think about silly things, climb trees and do nothing all day except playing with friends and coming back home to you, you and your warm smile and hot cocoa, you sad that i hug in silence because there is no words, you happy when you dance in the living room.
I don't want to move forward,
I want to go so far back that none of this ever happened and I am happy and free and I do not want to grow up.
I do not want to grow up.
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to carry myself with the pride of
Leo moons and ascendants
to be stubborn and stoic as
and to still shield an underbelly of a child’s sensitivity,
is a paradox of soulless masks or maskless souls or masks and souls or neither
to carry yourself with temper and cold
fire and ice converged
to be passive and cruel as
a million shards of glass
is a recipe for broken hearts and screams and cries
and children hiding under blankets
thousands of tiny cuts: too small to complain,
but after the first hundred, the wound is bleeding
and tears are falling, salt stinging flesh.
the cumulative wound undermined
by your sharp words: you twist the knife
“why are you crying about something so little?”
excitement drips from teenage smiles
i have done this and this and this
burning scorches teenage cheeks
as you say that and that and that
can’t there be “I’m proud of you” without “but?”
all for you, all for your pride
all for “but she can too,” all for “have you heard about what he’s done?”
all to be second-best, least favorite, hardest-working, least rewarded
all to have taken the lesser of your genes, of your interest
today i ran to you, cheering
i had won
today i ran from you, sniffling
you reminded me i had lost
today i hide from you, crying
i write this thinking i am not enough
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