The dimensions are folding,
Mold in the basement, my breathing hasn’t been golden.
Though tragic the story, I forgot to write the ending
Of a sick little kid, who’s gotten rather good at pretending.
Mention not - here’s a token:
The more revolting your thoughts, the more glorious your potion.
Everything I say contains a tint of that poison.

Hello my lifeline.

I hope the suffering is manageable.  If you don’t see the light, just breathe and wait.  You’ll see it eventually.

In my experience, I always saw life through a microscope.  Dissecting - every path, every decision - to the densest part of its core.  For what? For personal satisfaction.  For peace of ego.  I am sorry to disappoint you, but the part of you that wants to know every answer will never have enough.  

As I write this to you (a bit prematurely, I might add), I think about what has truly mattered to me in my life thus far.  Laughter. Sunlight. Deep embraces, especially with women.  But just as important have been the tensions and the moments of immense pressure.  Good is only relative to how well you can endure the bad, my son. To be honest, I am not able to cry as much as I wish I could.  Sometimes, I think my feelings don’t work as good as others.  

I tell you all this to arrive at the greatest defeat of my life.  The time I let my ego make the ruling, and my soul beared the eternal consequence.  I had a father quite similar to yours.  He was stubborn.  That’s what I remember most about him.  One difference between him and I was that we didn’t trust each other.  But you and I, we do.  I hope.  At some point in our journey, I had the choice to choose love, choose God towards my father.  To be a kind man to a battered one.  I decided against it.  I pitied myself.  I was bitter.  It was the wrong decision.  

Now, I realize how an intelligent man like yourself might interpret this message as extortion.  Your old man wants to insure his son will listen to him when I’m old.  This is not the case.  This message is just an opportunity to say I love you and I’m human.  You are healing me, simply by being.  I wish my father could have said this to me.


With Love,
Dad

If a heart can tremble,
mine is trembling now.

That thing about the law of attraction—
well,
I imagined my divorce,
imagined myself radiant,
dancing wildly,
happy,
without you.

Look at us —
everything’s falling apart now.

We don’t talk anymore.
We’ve become roommates.
Apartment 403,
welcome.

He works,
I stay home —
that’s the dynamic.

I asked what would become of us,
what you wanted me to do,
and I found myself longing
for you to actually tell me what to do.

If you said, die,
I would die.
Just please —
not in a painful way.

I’ve been trying
to be so strong these past days
that I haven’t allowed myself
even a single second
to be
merely weak.

The pain
that tears through my chest,
from top to bottom—
there are no words
to truly describe it.

It is only
pain.

You chose to move on
and I respect that.
I’m sorry—
truly, deeply sorry—
for destroying us.

I miss us.
I miss the love
that was more attachment
and dependence
than anything else,
but still—
it was something.
It was family.