I'm so scared. Isn't that funny? I'm freaking terrified. After all the times you've called me fearless with a scowl in your eyes, I'm afraid.
I'm scared I'll forget. Not the usual fear of forgetting you; your touch, your smell, your taste. Oh no, if I forget like I'm afraid I'll forget, I'll be far beyond that. I'm scared I'll forget and move on, like you're always telling me to. I'm scared I'll find someone else, someone mediocre, and settle for him. I'm scared I'll start a family. I'm scared I'll be happy. That's the worst one. How far would I have to forsake you from my memory to be happy? How could I be so stupid? Stupid enough to forget the tears, the pain, the scars that are so deep I swear to God they'll never heal? I can't forget these.
So, the next fear. I'm scared I'll call it childish infatuation. That's what I call everyone else's. I'm scared I'll look back and say, "Oh, I was lonely. It was stupid." You are not stupid. You're perfect, and I am meant to be with you. You know it, too. But that decision was taken away from us. I don't and can't blame you anymore. You did this for me. It's my fault for not trying to find another way. I've killed you, and subsequently killed myself.
You're still here, of course. And I'm realer than ever. But you tell me it's just a matter of time. That scares me, too. Because, when that happens, I'll have to start facing my fears. Alone. I'm scared that it's impossible.
I have a plan to get me through it. It's my Plan B for life. Do you want to hear it? It involves me. I graduate, do the college thing, get a job, and become a workaholic to fill the empty void that is my life. I go to sleep every night in my single bed staring at the ceiling, thinking of you. I am either in pain or numb. It might seem rough, but I'd rather be in pain then let time heal my wounds. Let me bleed out, at least I'll have been true.
Do you want to know what my Plan A was? It involves us. We graduate, go to college, and do the marriage and babies thing. We argue about money. We have dinner at the table four nights out of seven, me in a ponytail and no make-up, you still in work clothes. That's not sexist. I have a job, I just get home earlier and change faster than you do. You say something funny. I snort burned macaroni and cheese up my nose. You teach our son baseball. I try to help, but I drop the ball more than he does, and he's four. You walk our daughter down the aisle. I bawl like the softie you know I really am. We live well into our 80's, having had the time to let our love cool to a warm, ever present glow, instead of the fireball we have inside us now, that's giving us 1st degree burns.
But that door's closed to us now.
I just want you to know that you add so much joy to my life. You bring me up when I'm down. You wipe my tears when I cry. Every hope I have, I have because you gave it to me. Every mistake I made, you forgave me for. Every smile, every laugh, anything good that happened in my life had something to do with you. You've saved me. I'm so sorry I can't save you. But I guess we should've known. Everything in life must balance out. With so much joy, it was foolish of us not to expect so much pain.
I will always be yours. I promise. And my fears can go to hell, because that promise is a thousand times stronger than they'll ever be.
Love
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