12:32 after valentine’s day

12:32 am, and I do not know how to be awake at this hour and so I am sopping up the dragonberry rum with leftover potatoes and vegetarian gravy.

(There is also cheese and hot sauce, I am not a monster.)

33 minutes after Valentine’s Day and I am full and I am loved, I do believe, and I am also angry, because I have come to expect that love should feel like pain and I should not have to feel that way.

I have done a lot of careful work to not blame you. But in doing so, I have swallowed all the blame myself. I have done shots of shame over and over and over again, have licked the salt of grief from my own skin, my teeth have punctured this lime of self-hatred, and I do not hate you because I have spent all of that time hating myself.

12:35 after Valentine’s Day.

I don’t hate you even a little bit. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I would get on a roof and scream it to the stars if I knew the right roof to climb. You would not hear me. You are done hearing me. You told me once we would always be in each other’s lives and I believed you and I have to shut my eyes closed tight at night to block out that sadness, that emptiness, that no-ness. We are not in each other’s lives. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

12:36.

Maybe I am a little drunk and treading less carefully than I would here, but fucking fuck. I thought for a long time that fairy tales only existed in the dark of night. That there is one small love that goes to the grocery store and talks absentmindedly about weekend plans, but oh, there is a Bigger Love that is life, that is art, that is creation itself, that could be everything. And I believed you too. And I carved out a certain chunk of myself in exchange for that belief, I made a sacrifice to that magnificent altar, and I have been afraid and ashamed ever since.

(I am still not mad at you, not really. Sometimes I really wish I was.)

12:40. (Sorry, I took a break to eat my potatoes.)

It is 41 minutes past Valentine’s Day and I am full of rum and potatoes and I will stride forward into starlight.

You have no power over me.

Published by Dani

I like breakfast, marine mammals, Star Wars, comedy, the song "Dead Man's Party," and Halloween musical revues at theme parks. Let's be friends!

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