You’re afraid to be visible,
afraid of being found out, dimed out, wiped out.
When I looked at you from that perspective all I could see was fear, your fear,
and it nauseated me.
You presented yourself as this strong, confident, self assured being,
geared to take on the possibilities of what could be,
but within you were as shallow as a backyard pond in the midst of a drought,
that’s what you were about.
I feverishly worked to put pieces of a puzzle together, pieces that weren’t ever meant to fit.
I made excuses for your disappearances, went against what I believed just to have you,
and you weren’t even worth it. You were an imitation of life, transparent and unpredictable.
As I started up that hill with you, I kept looking back, questioning moving forward,
and the closer I got to the top I squinted to see truth, knowing that I was walking with a lie.
You quickly became an unnecessary presence that had to be eradicated, for I deserved better.
When I cut the rope it felt as though a part of me died, but four years later I realize that it was a rebirth,
one intentional and powerful, and nothing about that experience tainted the man I have become today.
When I scan the walls of social networking I see you still trying to discover who you are…
but one thing I know, without a doubt, loosing you was the best thing that ever happened to me.