C

Oh C,

Many things. C is for coldness. C is for the cruelest man I know. C is for caring too much and too little at the same time. I never wanted to see today. I wanted, so desperately, to always feel the way I did at first. At first, when everything between us was a first. That was my only wish. I never wished for you to love me back, for you to find me beautiful, or for you to even stay, but I wished that I could keep that feeling for as long as I lived.

But now, I can’t remember. What was it? Surely not this quiet dread. I am not a coward, no. But I am uncomfortable with everything your eyes tell me when your mouth refuses.  We are no longer the children who couldn’t be apart. We are only two people trying to convince ourselves that yes, this is normal. This is what everyone does and where everyone ends up.  Then it isn’t defeat, and there’s nothing to give up on. It’s just the status quo. We’ll do all right if we can fool ourselves for always.

It’s only once in a while that either of us remembers to wonder what happened to those past selves. What we have today — this was their dream. It’s only too bad that were aren’t those children anymore. Today, you and I are strangers. Hello.

(Disclaimer: This is part of the letter series)

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