Time doesn’t heal all wounds. We both know that’s bullshit; it comes from people who have nothing comforting or original to say. But I wonder if others keep up with this lie because they don’t want to speak the harsh truth. The wound never closes and the pain remains, always piercing, always burning, always suffocating, always bleeding.
Sometimes it’s okay to be surprised. It’s going to sound stupid, and I wouldn’t ever say this out loud, but the way Theo and I came out to each other was sort of like getting caught in a thunderstorm. Storms can suck when they’re knocking out power and ripping apart houses, no doubt. But other times the thunder is a soundtrack to something unpredictable, something that gets our hearts racing and wakes us up. If someone had warned me about the weather, I might have freaked out and stayed inside.
But I didn’t.
I’m too busy dreaming up what it would be like to always share this space and any other space with this know-it-all who loves cartography, puzzles, video animation and finding out what makes humans tick.
Now you can see me, wherever you are. I know you’re there, and I know you’re watching me, tuned in to my life to piece everything together yourself.
I just want you to remember the things the way I do. And if bringing up the past annoys you now, know that I’m sorry, but please don’t be mad at me for reliving all of it. History is all you left me.
He reaches for my hand, and it’s not for a high five. I know the world hasn’t changed, what goes up still has to come down, but the way I see the world has shifted a little to the right, moving forward, and I can now see it the way I’ve always wanted to.
He broke me in a way everyone should be lucky to be racked open at least once. I had the privilege of being destroyed by him until we found a better, real me inside of the person I was pretending to be.
This is the moment of the end. This is where we give up hope on reversing time, where we abandon finding a cure to death, where we live in this Theo-less universe, where we say goodbye. But I can’t. It is goodbye for most, but not for me. Never me.
He made me feel safe from the world, and made me feel safe from myself.
If I had to take a shot at describing what it’s like, I would call it my resurrection.
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