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Letters From Alex™

A collection of poetry and prose.

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Month: November 2019

A room without your voice.

What a terrible sound.

November 12, 2019

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i’m sorry… i don’t mean to burden you. i don’t mean to put this weight on your shoulders that you don’t deserve to carry. i don’t know why i always want to come back to you when my days are too heavy to carry on my own. my therapist said it’s okay that i feel this way, but it made me feel worse when i saw him today and told him a story of a harmless, flightless fledgling that i found by my pool over the weekend. i picked it up, grateful that i got home in time to find it on the ground and not drowned. i took a few photos of the cute thing. i wish you could see them. i brought it inside with me, placed it in a bin with a warm, fuzzy blanket, like it’s feathers. meanwhile, i researched what the next steps should be. multiple resources stated that i should “leave it where i found it,” and “don’t let it imprint on you.” grudgingly, i obliged. two hours later, it was chirping instead of sleeping. i went outside to place it by one of the palm trees away from the pool. i bid it goodbye as i went on with my night. regrettably, when i awoke the next day, i walked out the back door to find the harmless, defenseless, flightless fledgling, drowned in the pool. my heart sank as i rushed towards it to save it in case, by some miracle, just fell in, but it was still. too still. out of breath and out of life. it was my fault and i can’t help but make myself accountable for not listening to my gut, as i usually do instead of my brain. i can’t help but feel sensitive about this, and i knew you’d be one of the few to actually listen and understand. most people would tell me to get over it, it’s just a bird, but you’re not most people… and that’s why i fell in love with you.

but little did he know, on this abnormally chilly night, that this was just the beginning of his most tragic love story.

p.s. i hope you’re doing well too. i got caught up in thinking for myself that i didn’t bother asking you about your day or how life has been treating you lately. nevertheless, i’m very humbled and glad that i’ve had someone like you in my life. someone that lends an ear when i just need somebody to talk to. someone who understands why i do the things i do and doesn’t think i’m crazy. and someone who doesn’t take advantage of my fragile heart. you know me better than i know myself... and for that, i’m grateful for your existence.

but i’m glad for how things turned out between us. because, i catch myself sometimes walking on this fine line between wishing we could be in each other’s lives, no matter how much it hurts (well, hurts me at least) and grateful that you ignored every single text i sent your way for three whole years. i can’t begin to imagine how painful it would’ve been to be at your wedding— sitting down, watching you stand in front of your soon-to-be wife, the love of your life, as i sit on the sidelines wondering why i was a second choice, someone who wasn’t enough, someone who didn’t meet your standards. and as the clergy says, “speak now or forever hold your peace,” i would’ve bitten my tongue ‘til i bled the words i didn’t dare speak, so long as it meant that i got to keep you in my life. but i’m grateful for the pain you caused on that one night, because pretending to be your friend, putting your feelings in front of my own, and watching you be happy would’ve constantly opened up healing wounds and knowing my past self— i would’ve actually thought i deserved it.

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