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Coffee with my younger self: II

I went about my way as I abandoned that little girl and left her to beg for help from others, like I once did. Asking, pleading for love and affection. I cannot go back to her.

I know I’ve already left her behind.

I want her to sleep in peace, to dream beautiful dreams that make her happy. I cannot dream like that, mine are either hollow or nightmares. 

She doesn’t deserve to see that. She doesn’t deserve to know.

She will find kindness from strangers who take her home. She will eat warm meals, sleep with a full belly, and close her eyes with wonder. I, on the other hand, can barely digest food or I eat like a pig and I dread going to bed.

She doesn’t deserve to witness that.

Her face is so full of joy, hope, and love. Mine is tired, hollow, and worn. She has to live the life she always dreamed of: smiling, hoping. 

I can’t even go one hour without a cigarette.

After all the pain I caused her today, I know she’ll still forgive me. She might hate me for an hour or two, but she’ll forgive, she’ll forget, and she’ll go on. I love and hate that about her because in some way, I’m still like that.

But she has to go on, without knowing me. She must soar across the sky where she is no Icarus. She should live free and strong. She will forgive. She will forget. She will live beautifully.

And I know I cannot. Because the world ended when it happened to me.

Let her live. Let her.

I don’t even glance back as i abandoned her.

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