Breakup

Maybe it was the way you kissed me under the stars in the middle of the night when the moon was perched delicately overhead, and crickets sang in the background. Or maybe it's because when I breathe out your name, my throat burns like I've downed a shot of whiskey. Whatever the rationale, my heart aches not for you but because of you. The marks on my skin create a road map to the last time I slept on your bed with your body entwined with mine. There are many things I regret in my lifetime, but the time I spent with you? That time goes far beyond contrition. That time was wasted. My greatest fear is losing myself in the sea of sorrow that is us, but yet I always yearn for one more taste of your lips. I may never understand the tightness in my chest when I recall the smell of your cologne or the stiffness in my back every time I hear the sweet melody of any country song.

Somethings in this life are better left unfinished, and I do not believe our relationship escapes that harsh reality. It is, for this reason, I suggest we take a break from this world and drift to a faraway land in the back of our minds. It is, for this reason, I long for the taste of metal and smoke. My veins are filled with cyanide, and every time my heart beats. I can feel the oxygen in my brain depleting like the cares in the world about pollution. I no longer want to be afraid to drink a glass of water in the middle of the night when I cannot sleep. I do not wish to anticipate I will die every time I set foot into a vehicle that will accelerate at a high level. I ask, respectfully, if you will be generous enough to give me my life back. You may keep all of my belongings and memories, and you may even keep my dignity.

Unfortunately, I have come to realize that you and I are not compatible despite our many sorrowful attempts. I do, however, provide my condolences for any dread this letter brings you. Love, in a sense, is poisonous to those of us who cannot depict the world in any better way. I am one of those people. I once heard the phrase, "Our love is equal part pleasure, as it is pain," and I believe that phrase applies to us as well. While in a manic episode, I may promise you my demise for your success, I truly wish you well. At no point will the metallic taste fill my mouth again in regards to you. 

I hope somewhere you will find comfort in another woman's breast, and she will provide you with the necessary elements I lack. You and I are not opposite sides of a coin. You are a golden collectible dollar coin, and I am a rusty penny on the sidewalk. While you are a picture of good health, I am on a ventilator. I understand you do not take delight in vexing me, nor vice versa, but that is all to come of our partnership. My foibles come from chemicals, ravaging places they should not have. Yours stem from lack of character, a trait I envy. 

I do not ask for a response, nor expect one. I ask for your forgiveness because I know my mere existence has caused you all this trouble. I've revoked the freedoms I once had in the heat of the moment, and I give you the last of my sanity. After today you will not hear from this person again. Thank you for taking your time and reading.