It Still Hurts

Life's really getting better. I stopped smoking altogether, I have no stress in my life, and I'm making bunches of fabulous friends all over the place. The job is doing fantastic, and life is looking up on all fronts.

I still miss you though. God I miss you and what we had. I miss that security and the warmth that you provided me.

When I was in your arms, life was great, and nothing could be better. The only problem was outside those arms, you made me into the monster in your mind. I wish that monster wasn't there -- I'd still be in those arms.

Tonight, I fantasized that one day, my doorbell would ring and it would be you. You'd come in and we'd go and lay together. You'd probably just sleep, and I'd caress your face and hair like I used to. I thought about you scratching my head and us assuming the position, or rolling out and following the other. God, we were the absolute best when it came to sleeping together. The Olympic Sleeping Gold Medalists we were.

I also thought about when you came over on Columbus Day and I played the "Tell Her This" song. I remember crying, just losing control of my emotions, when you said "I just love you, Den." It was like old times, just me and you, Cecil and Selma, being us. It was a perfect few hours that we spent together.

Then I thought about the weekend in November that we spent together, and us looking into each others' eyes and talking to one another, all through the eyes. You said "I love you Den."

That weekend, you also thanked me for sticking it out and being so patient with you. You recognized everything and knew the efforts that I went.

Then it all changed. In an instant when i went to work the next day.

Accusations of screwing with you began. It never stopped. We had one more time together, more magic, until the end when you lost it. In between, there were fights and more fights.

God, I wish we could have kept it together. The good times were so fucking good. Yet, you couldn't accept them as real. I just wish you could have let life be and not try to control me in every aspect of my life. I'm a big, independent boy that was dedicated to you. You never could accept that. You could never accept me.

You could never accept me. God it hurts saying that.

Now I have to move on, and it's such a pain in the ass. All I wanted you. Now I have to go find the perfect relationship. I'm not stopping until I find it. I'm not accepting mediocrity now.

You had it. You threw it away. I still cry about you -- probably three times a week. Not three times a day anymore.