“Where do you go from here?
Into oblivion.
Where no one
can hurt you
except yourself.” – Gracie
“I went downhill
at such steep inclines
that my rearview mirror showed me only the sky
and i laughed about it all night
and i said hey man, isnt it poetic
that the sky is what we leave behind” – Lincoln, Downhill
I’ll love you.
Fiction. Based on a true best friendship.
By Bry LeBerthon
This journal entry is inspired by true events. Some of the characters, names, businesses, incidents, and certain locations and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes. Any similarity to the name, character or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional.
Trigger Warning: our program often motivates people to discuss their trauma. If you find yourself feeling overwhelmed, please, take a step back to address emotional flashbacks and trauma before continuing to push yourself. If you are experiencing a medical emergency, call 911 or the National Suicide Hotline at (1-800) 273-8255.
I can’t even understand myself
so I can hardly expect you to.
And yet
I love you so fully
so completely
that I do.
It’s the codependency,
I know.
The attachment,
the grief,
residual trauma,
I know
I know
I know.
And yet
when this happens
when I am burdened by your humanness and you are lost again by mine
I wonder
if perhaps
it’s really me.
I can’t explain to you why it is I ache so badly
I can’t even tell you when I’m in pain
so why is it that I’m here again
staring out at city lights
wondering if,
no, wishing that
they could stare back?
And I don’t know if it’s you or me.
I know I’m damaged, I’m not sure who’s damaging.
And I long for you to know,
I yearn for you to see,
crying for help in every conversation,
begging for love behind a screen,
before you hang up and I am left to face myself.
I wonder:
even if I am loved,
is there is someone for me in this vast, vast universe
who can make me feel like I am?
Do I ask for too much?
Or do you give too little?
Is it evil of me to yearn for more?
Tell me,
city skylines,
where do I fall in the grand equation
the choreographed dance that is your busy streets?
I long for you, and we are meant to be
even while we’re starcrossed
separated by leagues and leagues of sky
And I’ll love you
even while I’m being pathetic
even once I’m gone.
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