Quiet Storms Between Us
by deb y felio
Missed it again. Why can’t I ever wait before I vomit words.
I thought it would be different this time. Why can’t you understand? It always seems to end up the same way.
I want to be who you need me to be. I want to be strong. It’s been lonely for both of us. Maybe we’re too much alike. But being alike doesn’t necessarily bring us closer. I wish I could say
We’re all each other has had since I was little, and yet it’s push - pull - identical magnetic poles repelling each other. I wanted to tell you about my decision so we could make the most of whatever time we had because
I am scared. I want there to be futures for both of us. I have always known this day would come, but I haven’t done a great job - or even a mediocre one - preparing for it. It’s like a terminal illness - when the person dies, you’re still not totally prepared. And I’m afraid that this leaving won’t bring a beautiful sunrise with you walking back in the door. You have always been so brave, and I am so proud of you. I wish I could tell you to please
I’m not a child anymore. If I wait any longer I might get lost again in this uncertainty of whose life I’m living and what my purpose is. I wanted you to be proud of me - finally - and tell me that this was a brave decision. You’ve always been so strong. We both have doubts about what this might mean. Why couldn’t we talk about them instead of repeating this insanity of anger leading to separation. Why is being close so hard for us? If only I could