Dear Brian

Dear Brian

If you’re standing here, it’s because I am. If you breathe, it’s because I breathe too. Your dependence on me is exhausting yet, it feels like I depend on you.

When instability overwhelms and overpowers my frail silhouette. And yet.

When you’re gone I’m a mountain, a rock, I am the wave. When you’re gone I can part tides and make strides and utter sentences to inspire, and break free from the me that becomes the liar of weaknesses of needless needs and open wounds; that all at once yearns to be free, yet congeals to the confines of distorted memories when I made a mistake and you remind me. And yet.

Surfacing in my periphery I feel you ebb. Closer to my route. That I’ve carefully carved away from you. And yet I’m hooked. I rely on you, your name shapes my mouth in vowels and consonants trialled before you arrive, your faceless embodiment a poltergeist in my own mind. Brian, you are safety and yet throw me across train tracks in endless visions; and yet.

Perhaps you will end me as I try to end you. Star crossed lovers both of whom I cannot be. And yet.

I need your stick man legacy, the puppetry and you move me as I’m meant to be. I give up. I retreat. And let you steer a while. While I find my feet, and you pull the rug from under me leaving me with nothing but these clichés. And yet.

And yet. Somehow I stay, fighting to remain, fighting my beliefs, they are stronger than you. I am stronger than you. I existed long before you, I am flesh and blood and bone and heart and words and the real memories, not the visions that you sent to me.

And yet. 


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