Suicide Notes
Saturday, December 11th, 2010
Dearest Amber,
Your minuet breath still lingers resounding through my ears. I long for the tender touch of your legs entwined with mine. I miss feeling the slight rise and fall of your chest in my arms – sliding my fingers across your sound and sleeping stomach hesitating just a moment to circle your belly button. The taste of your skin, the ever-youthful joy of your smile, the life immortalized in your quiet eyes – those soft, hazel prisms – all of you will reside in me ever thus.
I remember the days when we were the world – forsaking sleep to sit together in urgent ambling through our verbal rambling. We lived entire lives inside those moments. Idling with you was my most pressing passion.
You are responsible for the vast expanse of my emotions from blissful happiness to harrowing sadness.
Watching you kill yourself with determination of your life’s work, seeing the way your beauty and tenderness has been overwritten with decay, watching the world rob away your sunshine ounce by ounce with every day – these things I can no longer do. I have held together the past year for you – to try and help you get back that piece, the essence of the thing that is you. But it seems now that it was lost before either of us ever really noticed it was missing. One cannot hold a wilted flower in winter and forever insist it is still the vibrant, myriad effluvia of spring.
And that’s why I’m going, now. I’m leaving to be with the eternal YOU – the one we can never hold or touch or taste again in this life no matter how hard we try or how determined we are to hold on.
Goodbye my love.
Res ipsa loquitur.
Dearest Amber,
Your minuet breath still lingers resounding through my ears. I long for the tender touch of your legs entwined with mine. I miss feeling the slight rise and fall of your chest in my arms – sliding my fingers across your sound and sleeping stomach hesitating just a moment to circle your belly button. The taste of your skin, the ever-youthful joy of your smile, the life immortalized in your quiet eyes – those soft, hazel prisms – all of you will reside in me ever thus.
I remember the days when we were the world – forsaking sleep to sit together in urgent ambling through our verbal rambling. We lived entire lives inside those moments. Idling with you was my most pressing passion.
You are responsible for the vast expanse of my emotions from blissful happiness to harrowing sadness.
Watching you kill yourself with determination of your life’s work, seeing the way your beauty and tenderness has been overwritten with decay, watching the world rob away your sunshine ounce by ounce with every day – these things I can no longer do. I have held together the past year for you – to try and help you get back that piece, the essence of the thing that is you. But it seems now that it was lost before either of us ever really noticed it was missing. One cannot hold a wilted flower in winter and forever insist it is still the vibrant, myriad effluvia of spring.
And that’s why I’m going, now. I’m leaving to be with the eternal YOU – the one we can never hold or touch or taste again in this life no matter how hard we try or how determined we are to hold on.
Goodbye my love.
Res ipsa loquitur.
