Forget you?

It isn't possible.

Sorry?

More on loss. And grief. Trying to distance myself from the ache, because it threatens to swallow me whole.

Years unceremoniously denied in a blink of an eye. No emotion. It boggles the mind.

How can I believe when you say, that you care, when you don’t acknowledge the truth?

So I try to tuck you away. But the reminders keep coming. I want to reach out, to tell you this or that. I know it will only be received as a violation. That I don’t know how to listen to you.

But you can’t seem to hear me. Won’t accept the misunderstanding. Build up a wall and stand behind it with your ears plugged.

Is do no harm in your vows? In your pledge to serve?

Because you have failed.

Not through the years, but in the end.

So what do I do with the memories? How do I hold this pain?

You always told me that you would hurt me, that it would happen. I told you it wasn’t true, it wasn’t possible. God, was I wrong. I put my faith and belief in you. You listened to things I could tell no one else. That was sacred. That was holy. That should have counted as something.

I will never know. I will never get the opportunity. It’s tragic.

I feel ashamed to still yearn for connection. I feel scared every time I write a word. Every time I share my truth. You told me to not stress. But were those just words hiding how you truly felt about me?

A burden. Too needy. Too enthusiastic. Too supportive. Too much.

I needed reassurance. I needed you to stay. I needed you to be clear. I needed to know the rules. I needed you to be different than all the rest.

But instead, you were

not sorry.