Seems like it’s been… years. I’m at home right now, by myself. [Roommate’s] gone somewhere for the weekend. I’ve been playing Bravely Default lately. It’s funny, I keep seeing and hearing things and thinking “Nathan would love that!” But I keep resisting the urge to tell you anything, to message you or call you.
There’s this song in Rent that I was listening to the other day. It has these lyrics, “Without you, the ground thaws, the rain falls, the grass grows. Without you, the seeds root, the flowers bloom, the children play. The stars gleam, the poets dream, the eagles fly. Without you, the earth turns, the sun burns, but I die without you.”
I was listening to that the other day, I hadn’t really listened to the song before but for the time I saw the movie, and I just found myself crying while I was driving, thinking about you. In fact, I think about you every day, I hear a song or see something and I think of you. I’ve gotten to the point now where usually it doesn’t bother me.
But then, sometimes, like right now, I’ll be at home, in the middle of the night, and something will set it off out of nowhere. I realize how empty this house is without you. I realize how even if I sleep with someone new or kiss someone new or share the bed with someone new, see movies with someone, no one will ever be you. I found myself at my mother’s house tonight getting food from her and saying “We don’t eat that,” or “We haven’t made that in a long time.” It was like I forgot you weren’t here anymore.
I didn’t have any motive in sending you this message. Just, every day I want to talk to you, every day I think about you, every day everything reminds me of, every day I talk about you in some way to someone, and then at night I’m here, all alone. You’re not here. I’m still not sure how to deal with that. I keep thinking back to when we lived in Georgia together. When I would come into your bedroom and you’d be asleep and I’d sit next to you and play games. I think about when you would sleep on the couch at my mom’s house and we would rub our noses together. I think about driving down the highway from Cumming with you, back to my house in Georgia when I worked at Pottery Barn. I think about playing Smash Brothers in the living room or cramming into my sister’s little bed.
I saw this article the other day about Skyward Sword. I should have known not to read it. The image of Link in front of the gate of time just made me think of being in that little camper with you. Just us.
So much went wrong in our relationship. So many bad things happened. There was so much sadness, so much anger, so much suffering for everyone. But I still think about those moments, those moments that linger with me. Sometimes I remember you and I’m mad. Sometimes I remember you and I’m happy. Sometimes, like now, I remember you and I’m just broken beyond any words. It’s as though I have genuinely died, and I’m living a new existance. When I’m driving home, there’s this spot in the road, right after the turnout of Walmart headed down to my house, and it always hits me when I’m there that I’m not going home to anyone, and that you aren’t in the passenger seat. I go to Dynasty Buffet when I have money and I eat alone. I drive to the Goodwill alone. I sometimes drive to Gamer’s Alley, alone. I walk the street, alone. I clean up my room alone. I make dinner alone.
I hope none of this hurts you or upsets you. I guess I just needed to say it. It weighs on me everywhere I go.
The earth turns
The sun burns
But I die