Ode To Mister ______

I thought about you today. You know who you are. I actually think about you most of the time. Most of the time those thoughts are unkind. Not today, though.

Today I missed you. I wanted to tell you about how they're clearing the brush away from the creek across the highway. You can see it now. It's pretty. I thought about how you used to want to go down there. Now you can. Or you could. 

But you won't. You're not here. You don't know that the bramble has been cut away. I won't tell you.

I won't tell you for the millionth time that I miss you. That I wish you still loved me. That you hadn't given up on me. That you hadn't left.

I won't tell you for the millionth time how angry I am. That I wish I had never met you. That you're an asshole. That I hate you for what you've done.

I won't tell you any of those things because you already know. You know what you've done, the hurt you've caused and the catastrophe you've left behind. You know all of that and it doesn't bother you much.

I don't know how long it will take me to move past this. Twenty years together has been most of my adult life. Now I'm living a different kind of life. I'm still adjusting.

So, for a while, I'll talk to you in my head, my heart and here. You never did read my blog. Or listen to my words. Or see my pain. You'll never know.

But maybe it will help me somehow. Help me to be able to leave you in the past, where you live now, where you belong.

I thought about you today. It won't be the last time, I'm sure. 

I miss you.

I love you.

I hate you, too, though.

Get fucked.