Indifference

I’m trying
to come out the other side,
to find that light,
to breathe again
after years underwater.
I’m trying
but I’ve realized
there probably isn’t
another side.

I’m thirty-five
and don’t feel
above eighteen,
and I suddenly see
what all those old people
were talking about.

We don’t grow up
we just grow.

There isn’t another side.
There is just a tunnel through.

There is no mythic light,
no clean air,
just swimming.

I can’t get past you.
I can only get through it,
swim in it
until I have no breath left.

I want life to be like the movies,
a fiction turned reality
where you and I live fairytales
until we reach the end together.

But I know that I am thirty-five
and feel eighteen,
that young dreams
are just dreams
of who we wish
we could have been.
I know that this me is
just a new version
of the me who loved you,
who was too afraid of losing
to let go.

I’m not sure
we ever really change.
I’m just sure that
who I am was made by you–
your fingers,
your voice,
your distance,
your feigned indifference–
and I’ve been lost
since I lost you.

~Patience

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