My Lone Soldier

I’ve always thought that the line “You saved me.” from books or movies were little white lies. That it was a ploy to get hearts to flutter. Or maybe it was a trigger for all kinds of emotions. Maybe it was just for added effect, the cherry on top.

But most especially, I didn’t like the thought that I needed help to be saved or that I needed saving. I was my own warrior. I did not need a knight in shining armor.  I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?

Here’s the thing.

I have gotten used to fighting this battle between myself and I with no one to rely on that I have been blinded. I have traveled long and far on foot. I have slain every demon my mind has conjured. I was way too over my head that when I reached the edge of the water, I did not hesitate to board the ship on the dock not realizing that it was filled with pirates masked as sailors.

I was outnumbered and the shore was already miles away but that has never stopped me before. This was different. This was more than just the pirates. This was every single one of my inner demons. For the very first time in a long time, I had this gut wrenching feeling that I knew that I was going to lose.

And I did.

Because I let it.

An anchor was tied around myself as they pushed me overboard and the moment I hit rock bottom, I never wondered how long would it take me to get right back to the surface, because I’ve accepted the fact that this was the end-game. There was still so much fighting that needed to be done that maybe if I closed my eyes and held my breath a little longer, then maybe there will be no more of this madness. The rolling credits were near and all I had to do was wait.

However at the very last second, when I least expected it, you came along and pulled me back up from the bottom of the ocean, anchor still intact.

Here’s the magic in the situation, there was always help. From the very beginning. I was simply too selfish and refused to accept a helping hand.

Being saved is not a sign of weakness.

I know that now.

Sometimes it’s okay to have an army  or maybe just one soldier who has your back in this battle against myself. That’s what you told me.

This, to you my lone soldier, I say with every ounce of gratitude, “you saved me.”

-Y

Pastels and Grays

I am a stranger to myself. When I am alone, I either feel too much or nothing at all. It is something that I try and fail to shake off. It is an annoying shadow, a never ending tapping sound, a thief in the night. At times it is sudden. At times I hear its footsteps coming closer long before it even arrives. My heart can win a marathon at how fast it beats at night when all thoughts consume my existence as I lay awake until I am too exhausted to think. I like to say that I’ve mastered the art of faking a smile. Quite easy, actually, I could show you how. It is disguised in colorful paintings, in the corniest of jokes, in a single sigh.

I have this nagging feeling that I have an entire stadium full of people just waiting for me to crumble and they’re getting what they want.

But I can’t let them.

For I am stronger than this.

I better be.

Y

defeated

i’ve given up
on you,
but,
for the
record, love,
you gave up
on me
first.

whilst i was
struggling to
keep our heads
above the water
for the both
of us
you have left
me there to drown.

i was no longer
fighting along
side you.
this was no longer
our battle.
you’ve raised
your white flag
to surrender
without my
knowledge
and suddenly,
i was all alone
in front of
an army of
thousands.

still i did not
wave my white flag.

but i am tired.
i am exhausted.
and there’s little
to nothing left
inside of me
to continue
swimming,
to continue
fighting this
losing battle
so
i have given up
on you…
on us
but to set things
straight
maybe there
wasn’t even
an us

for you did
not let it be,
for you decided
to walk away
long before
it even had
the chance
to begin.

Y

the clock has stopped

i look at you
and my heart breaks
slowly but surely
little by little.
every intake of breath,
a struggle for you.
and i
don’t have the strength
to watch
but there’s also
a part of me that longs
to spend
every second of the day
with you.
i don’t know
how much time you have left.
i admit that i am weak
that i am not strong enough
to say goodbye,
to let go,
but the clock is ticking, my angel
and i may not have
that much of choice
the very situation is
forcing me to be strong
in front of you
but once the doors are closed
and i am alone
everything crumbles.

Y
for Tiny (May 2007-October 23, 2016)

answer me

how do you move on
when the very thing
that you have kept
tucked, hidden, stored, locked
at the very bottom of your soul
resurfaces, shoots out, opens, returns
at 2:04 in the morning as
you lay in bed and couldn’t
(but you know that you should)
sleep
sleep is such a foreign,
strange little thing of a word

how do you move on?
do you toss and you turn
on your bed until the sandman arrives?
but then you remember how
he used to say that you
sleep like a martial artist
preparing for a spar
once you’ve even
given him a black eye
twice you’ve kneed
him in the groin
you remember how he
isn’t a fan of cuddling in bed but
still he wraps his arms around
you after a rough day
until you fall asleep
it was one of the best sleeps
of your life

how do you move on?
do you scroll through social media?
but then you find yourself
staring at his profile page
you see that the last post
was from his mother
saying that she misses him
every
single
day
just like you
you miss him too
the previous posts were from friends
months ago just after the accident

how do you move on?
do you binge watch movie trailers
do you get up and do chores
do you throw away the engagement ring
do you ugly cry
do you drink that last bottle of beer in the fridge
do you count the cracks on the wall
do you-

something interrupts you
.
.
.
the alarm clock
7 A.M.
you get up
you wipe the tears
you get ready for the day
you tuck, you hide, you store, you lock
and you just know deep down
at the very bottom of your soul
that you’d still be asking that
very same question later on tonight

how do you move on?
.
.
.
maybe you just don’t.

-Y

this dance

i don’t know what to do or say
you have kept me in the dark,
and i in return
we have been dancing around this for far too long
neither are saying words that would end up complicating things
we are flirting through Facebook likes, Twitter and Instagram hearts
when we see each other, we act like there is nothing going on
even though we’ve talked for hours the night before
that we.
are.
just.
friends.
friends do not hold hands
with fingers intertwined,” they tell me
friends do not kiss,” they tell me
friends do not act like everything
is fine after a kiss like that,” they tell me
i am praying to the gods that you do not
hear how loud my heart is beating when i am with you
what does this mean?
i have been told by others that there is something
but i am too afraid to expect anything from you
but some days, oh, those days,
i let myself just do that,
i let myself think that we are an us
but darling, the music hasn’t stopped
so let’s continue to dance around this a little while longer.

Y