Dear “Charlie Brown”
I miss you. The pain hasn’t eased, but I’m learning to lie to myself enough so that I can pretend that we are both just waiting for the right time. I thought that if maybe I poured out my heart on paper, if I could stop lying to myself about who you are to me, it would ease this pain that twists and tears my insides apart, that causes my throat to close as silent tears rain from me to the paper I write on blurring my words.
I want to write poetic prose so profound you read it and think “I can’t leave”. I want to be so honest you know without any doubt that I am the one, but I won’t.
I will just write a letter, restrained and only half emotional where I just say I miss you, that I understand why we had to let each other go, that the reasons don’t make it easier even though I know I’m supposed to love you enough to let go.
I want your arms around me while we dance, I want those moments where we don’t say anything, yet everything is said.
This is just me saying everything you are to me, so you know how everything I want pales in comparison to how I want those moments of happiness back, those moments where we looked at each other and were grateful that someone understood when no one else could or would.
I know you won’t change your mind I know you won’t say you love me and stay, instead of saying you love me so you have to go.
I know that I told you I would wait, and you said no.
Well this isn’t a poem where I pour my heart onto paper in fancy words and rhyming, there are no long hours of thought involved here, where I rearrange how I say something and change it a hundred times till it sounds just right. This isn’t a letter where I beg you to come back. This isn’t me wondering if it will change. I know it won’t. I know what we had is gone.
This is just me saying I miss you.
The little redhead girl