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The white envelope was burning a hole in my hand. Neatly opening it wasn’t an option. I tore into it with urgency, careful not to rip the letter inside. As it unfolded, I began to breathe again. Not any air, air that contained bits and pieces of her. It was the finest, purest, and most rewarding oxygen one could ever inhale.
Makai,
I’ve started this letter twelve times, wondering what I could possibly say to convince you that you’ve made a mistake. That our love is worth another try. That we deserve one another. That my life is nothing without you.
But I won’t write any of that. I won’t try to convince you of what’s right for you, your head, and your heart. That would be so unfair. In life, I’ve prided myself on fairness and I’ll remain this way—even with matters of my heart.
Doing what’s best for you will always have my vote. It’s important that we advocate for ourselves, our love, and our futures. A future with me isn’t one for you. I get that now. It’s taken me a full month to see it, but I’m here now.
I’m out of my element. I’m without you. And it sucks. It feels like so much of me is missing. So many times I touch my chest just to make sure my heart is still there, to make sure it’s still beating because it feels so broken. So battered. So bruised.
Today, I thought about vacation, the first time I understood the power of parallel souls. Your three things. Since you’ve been gone, so much has changed in my world. Things are different. I am different. So, here are three things I think you should know about me now:
My heart will never not want you.
You’ve gutted me.
My door is always open for you. It’s the blue one; the only teal one on the entire street. I made it that way so you’ll never lose your way on your quest to find your way back to me.
Bonus: If I’ve loved you once, I’ll love you forever.
I’m settling in a new city, at a new job, and in a new home. It’s as scary as it is lonely. I miss your body next to mine. I miss the sound of your voice first thing in the morning. I miss the smell of your breath in the early hours. I miss the way you laugh. I miss the way you love. I miss your hugs. I’ve washed my own body for too many weeks.
I don’t know, Makai. Most days, I think I’m okay, but I’m feeling so blue. The family you’ve given me has been such a blessing during this transition. None of this would’ve gone as smoothly as it did had they not rolled up their sleeves and helped me at every turn. I’m forever in debt to them, each and every one of them.
My grandmother is still in Berkeley. My visits will be few and far apart, but I will make the trips every now and again. Leaving her behind was so difficult, but uprooting her in the condition she was in was not the best idea. I weighed the pros and cons. Ultimately, I couldn’t.
Midnight and Ghost are loving the new yard. It’s barely a matchbox in comparison to what they’re accustomed to, but they're happy. Knowing that I still have parts of you, although I can’t have all of you, makes me happy too.
I ran out of words four paragraphs ago but admittedly, it’s so hard to stop this pen from publishing what’s on my mind so that I don’t have to explain what’s on my heart. I’m a mess, Makai.
Take care,
Mommas.
I folded the letter neatly and placed it back into the envelope it had come out of. The heat radiating from my body warmed the floor beneath me. When I stood to put the box back in its rightful place, the hot spot left on the floor was the perfect analogy for the fire that had been birthed inside of me.
Inhaling, I allowed my bottled emotions to escape momentarily. With every fiber in my being, I missed Glacier. Walking away from her left me ill for weeks—physically, mentally, and emotionally. Reading the very first letter she’d written confirmed what I’d already known. I wasn’t alone.
I miss you… Like every day… That one Beyoncé song had replayed in my head for six months straight. Every day, all day. It repeated itself in my head.
Wanna be with you, but you’re away… Glacier and I could both relate to the words. Glacier and I were both experiencing the same pain.
I didn’t let the pain rot my insides and corrupt my thoughts for long. I laid down on the bottom bunk and reopened my book, hoping that one day, the emptiness associated with Glacier’s absence didn’t hurt so bad. Hoping that my wounds would heal themselves because I didn’t have the ability. I didn’t have the strength.
The fact that I was the person who ended us was all paradoxical. Shit, love was paradoxical. I understood very little, but felt so fucking much. It was bewildering. It was inexplicable. It was baffling.
Paradoxical
Adjective
Appearing absurd or self-contradictory
Synonyms include: illogical, confusing, absurd, incomprehensive
Thirty minutes into my read and the unit was still on lockdown. It had settled tremendously, most motherfuckers finally succumbing to their exhaustion. The silence was welcoming. It was the playground for a less than sound, less than sane mind. My thoughts roamed freely.
The sound of tightly strapped boots and tens of keys slapping against one another began, getting closer and closer with each passing second. My eyes landed on the metal that held the top bunk upright, remembering the man who had preceded us all in death. DJ was a solid, cool cat who had a massive heart attack in the dead of the night. I woke up to find him cold and stiff, eyes wide shut.
