I need to tell you something, it’s important.

We aren’t meant to be.
We are, just not this go around.
I love you, but at the same time I fear you.
I want to be near you, but fear pushes me away.
There are better men out there, more suited to what you truly deserve, than what I can provide, and even though what I can provide isn’t much, it’s what I AM able to provide.
there’s no easy way to say this, and I’m not some kind of ponce for going on and on and on and about this.
But I love you, in every sense of the word.
Every notion.
Every idea.
Every daydream, I love you.
As harsh as it might sound, I think you might be planning on taking advantage of that fact, despite everything you’ve said to the contrary.
Now, now, no need to get teary eyed over this, after all, this was the ending that we ALL worked towards.
You, me, your friends, my friends, corporate, families, everyone had a part to play in this, and try not to be so teary eyed and down on yourself, okay?

From the moment I laid eyes on you, I felt as if I were staring at the eternal and infinite total sum of the universe itself, a cosmic explosion of energy, light, life, death, violence, beauty, and vast intelligence all rolled into one! I also knew that I’d be as a moth to a flame in regards to how our particular stories would unfold.
Kinda pompous of me to say that, right?
What can I say?
I’m a sucker for black women, I never knew I was until I met you, and that’s saying something, because I’m a Taurus, and we’re known for being hard headed as fuck and stubborn and set in our ways, cause we KNOW we’re right!
Even if the rest of the world wants us to be wrong.
Love letters aside, long lost chances, twin flames, hit and misses, the one that got away, whatever you want to call that potential future we could’ve had or still might have that got away…

Despite everything, I still pray for you, subconsciously, and even though I’ve got other things to occupy my time, it seems like YOU, yes, YOU lucky lady have won the prize everyone else better suited for me has tried and failed to get their hands on, my heart.
MY truest heart.
But… Where… Where are ya?
Where’d ya go?
Did I stop being entertaining to you?
Did my utter refusal to sacrifice a part of my paycheck to you suddenly force you to seek the warmth of another?
I mean, we are survivors after all, and at most, I think i’m just writing a ghost a love letter, someone that crosses my path but never interacts with me.
Are you the ghost?
Am I?
It’s hard to tell at this point, and though I want to see you again, there’s a hidden dread brought on by the amount of sadness surrounding our conjoined history which is, by and far, unrecognized by everyone else.
Sometimes by even myself.
Sometimes I think our conjoined history was just one big daydream, a myriad of misread signals put out by you as an alternative way of stalking your mark and trying your best to confuse me into doing what you want.
Was it for love?
Was it for money?
Was there any truth to it?
Or was there just a bet to see how far down the rabbit hole you could take me before severing the line?

I think at some point I severed it myself after having enough shit piled on me by everyone else’s voices constantly chiming in and forcing me to reconcile the difference so they could have an easier day.
That final moment?
Those words?
The truest severing of connections, and in my own desperation I clawed away at what lonesome roads I had walked over and over and over again and forced myself into a period of uncontrived, uncomplex, and unfiltered truths.
That this thing we had… have… Both was and wasn’t a game, where I was the fly caught in a spiders web, but I kept escaping, you kept bringing me back, we’d dance around eachother in increasingly awkward steps until one by one, the strands of the web stopped being so sticky, and we could both switch roles however it suited our needs.

I don’t really think I’m angry anymore, nor saddened, nor depressed nor anxious, nor in my head. Because I broke the loop, I stopped my own personal cycle of stupid self sabotage, of constantly worrying about getting the perfect gal, of chasing that dream which was never meant to be, and yes, yes, yes I still believe in love, I believe in chance, and I believe that we’ll have more chances to cross paths and be happy.

But it’s going to take time, spent together, in person for that to happen, and I don’t think I have the strength to keep that going, that fire, that passion, that long standing promise to never give up on you because YOU my dear, never gave up on me.

I do love you.
I personally, believe we never stop loving someone we gave ap iece of our heart to, because, how could we? How can anyone stop truly loving someone that’s no longer around, only daring to cross paths like a faded memory with no sense of connection. Just words on a screen, permanent echoes with no real weight to them, as if their personal meaning had decayed to just a shadow of their former glory?

Lyrics written, songs spurred on by creation, and outside matters bleeding into the fiction by which we imagine ourselves, and yet, here we are. The fool and the magician.
We play both parts fairly well. Yours the folly and fire of young adulthood, and mine, the tragic romance and almost reliving that period in my own young adulthood where the impossible was and will always be possible, at least, for a time.

I don’t stare at the vast emptiness anymore wondering if I’ve not already passed up a chance for amazing love, because I’ve had that time and again.
I’ve already put the pieces together, without anyone’s help, without yours too.

Ours was a story never meant to be, yet somehow still forced itself into the veins of history through the memories of both ourselves and others who directly and indirectly dealt with the fallout of the unheeded drama.
Perhaps, had I been more to your personal speed, we would find ourselves in different and more favorable circumstances?
We’ve both grown, which is good, there may haps be a potential future for us yet, but I feel that we must further our own personal progress before that particular goal is a reality, if it is not already, and I have been merely misreading, yet again, all the signs
But, hey, as long as your happy, I’m happy, and you DO seem to be happier with current circumstances as they are, rather then how they could be.

No one can predict the future with 100% certainty, we can only mange projections based on current data and trends.
But, regardless of what happens from this point forward, I will still love you, forever and always my dearest north star.

After all, you are my sunshine, and I am your moon light.
Together we dance under star light.
You make me happy and I make you smile.
Let’s spend forever, together, for a while.

May we each find happiness, either with each other, or with those that make us happiest.

Author: Morgan James Gavin

Author, Musician, Tarot Reader, Blogger, sex icon, all around chill guy. What's your dream?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: