We're broken hearted. We did it to our self; a precautionary action.
We accidentally fell head-over-heels in love, all while trying to heal our self of our mental and physical pain with writing and art, and trying to take care of our self properly; an endeavour once cut short by a terrible car accident, increasing the need for more physical care. All in an attempt to rip out the ugly festering beast inside, and fill up some of the empty spaces with a little sunshine, and bind the cracks with staples of strength and perseverance so that we could honestly love our self again, instead of pretending it was true. We look forward to some day moving on to the next chapter of our life with just a little less anger, because we realize it will never be completely gone. A move to a chapter of our life that one day we hope to be able to revealed to all, in an effort to share some sunshine, some hope, if only we can grasp it; with any luck. Luck. Meh.
He was an important part of the last few months of our life, and was a bit of inspiration in helping us find our way. He was more important than anyone will ever know, and in a way that nobody will ever respect. One day we will write the story of him, and us.
In the face of realizing we will never be enough for him, proof with words he's both written and said, and actions he has expressed; the impact of which he was absolutely unaware of. We wrote the letter that we hoped never to get from him. Preemptive. We must protect our self.
We knew we couldn't keep him, but he just kept getting more FaNtAstic; and then we wanted to keep him just a little more each time we saw him, each time we fell more in love with him.
We're going to miss his face, his voice...the everything that he didn't comprehend that he was to us. The everything we know he is, and could be, for himself. We knew the destiny of the situation, even as we stepped into it, it's an age old story; we thought we were strong enough. We are not.
Our dreams have always been broken by the sledgehammer of life, you need merely read through some of our significant posts, and our other blog, to get that understanding. At least heartbreak is something everyone can empathize with; even if they can't understand the rest of what we have been through.
Now. To that bottle of Scotch, more writing, painting....and tears; and angry and/or pathetic Tweets...must never forget that. Viva la weekend.
We are one, We are many, We are Just Call Me Frank. Candid, adjudicating, philosophy wielding, life journaling, mental health advocating, writing and art therapy enthusiasts, lovers of learning; adventurers with a finger on all the buttons. Writing to survive and thrive.
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