Today, I watched a friendship sink into the deep, dark abyss of phenomenon.
That connection, to me, is labeled “dead.” I don’t want it to be eroded, rotting, gone, but it did that, it disintegrated,
This abyss of gone things doesn’t always connote “gone forever” in its description — I’ve pulled ideas, hope, feelings, relationships, the like out of it before. “Gone for now” doesn’t always mean “gone forever.” But these are things exclusive to my own perception.
Reality yields something more terrible.
When someone willfully stares at me defiantly, hurdling themselves over the edge, banishing themselves and ripping their roots out where they’d been embedded in my subconscious — no amount of “I LOVE YOU” “I’M SORRY” “COME BACK” “PLEASE DON’T FUCKING LEAVE ME” can cancel out minutes, hours, weeks, months of pain.
My weak gestures, floundering, reaching, straining to retrieve things out of the abyss when a person chooses to station themselves there are all in vain.
I have no justifiable right, in my head, to even miss them.
Might as well pretend they never existed.
And yet, to do that, is an insult to the memory of our memories.
Only sometimes, when I turn my head back, and I see their smiling face, see them gesture that “it’s okay,” do I find it in me to pull the idea back out of the abyss.
But if the person themselves has chosen to leave —
It’s peacetime. There’s nothing worth trying for anymore.
The war is over.