Dropped Thought

I want to I want to I want to peek through this shut door. It doesn’t feel right shut. I want to see what has happened on the other side.

I’ve thought about this moment all the time and now I’m here, ready, somewhat ready to peek through it.

I’m thinking that I’ve laid myself aside enough to peek through the door. Then why am I still so scared? Scared of getting hurt? Have I not put myself down yet? Will I ever be ready, be so laid aside to be brave enough? I don’t think so.

I’m here, with my phone in hand. And I want to say something to open the door. But I only type two words, Hey, you, and I can’t seem to type anymore. I don’t know what to type. Or what to say. I love you I miss you. How are you? I wish I could do that, but I’m not willing to have you reply just with I’m fine and leave me hanging, waiting with what I always feel is annoyance to my questions.

I say I’m ready to be hurt if it comes to it and that I’m not expecting a great show of zapping messages at the gain of opening this door again.

But I think I still do have expectations. That’s why I’m staying my hand although I want to open this darn door.

I realize I just want to show you I’m here. But I can’t do that through the phone without saying anything. I couldn’t bear another anticlimactic one word conversation, where I feel like I’m a burden to you.

Am I doing this for myself? Out of guilt? To make myself more comfortable or something?

It just don’t feel right. Maybe an anticlimactic conversation is good enough. I admit that I’d want more. But I’ll deal.

What’s the point of being a writer when words don’t come when you need them?

It’s because I don’t need words. It’s beyond words. The words I’ll eventually type you won’t mean a thing.

I just used them to open a door and I don’t know how much I need to give to keep it open. Or to shut it again.

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