the science of saying goodbye

you don’t want
to let go. you’ve held on
for this long, it’s got to be worth it
in the end. you think if you
can only rewrite history,
invent a time machine,
just go *back* and fix
what you did wrong, and
maybe by some miracle she
will hear the light,
see the error
of her ways, she’ll just
love you enough, in
the right way
to be the person
you wanted her
so much to be.

this can’t be
the end; your side wasn’t heard
enough, the story
didn’t give you a chance. if only
you could make her
understand your point
of view, everything would
be okay. you think
about what you would say,
rehearse the conversation
in your head
over and over, argue it
so many different ways
like a lawyer before a judge
or a rabbi debating
the Talmud. you know
in your heart
if she would only listen,
you could talk her around.

but.
the person you’re talking to
in your head never existed.
it’s not her, and the real girl
is gone. talking to ghosts
and creating thought forms
to fill your loneliness with avatars
never did anyone
any good.

you took on her problems
as your own, because if
whatever was wrong was
your fault, your responsibility, your burden
or you could have done more
then you can try again, you can
mend the fences, and somehow
make it right. but here’s the thing:
you can’t.
you couldn’t. sure you
could probably have
tried harder. but in the end
you were still only half
the equation. if you
could have fixed things,
they wouldn’t still be broken.

the scariest thing
about letting go
is admitting that
there is nothing you can do
to make the other person
think
behave
believe
want
need
or feel
the way you want them to.

if you want a proof against God,
there it is. no one is coming
to magically fix things,
to make life fair.
you can’t change her mind.
nothing you do
can make her other
than she is. stop hoping.
stop praying. cut off
all the ties
of thought and energy and love
that are pouring out of you
every second you spend dreaming
about things being
other than they are.

leave her be.
maybe she’ll find
her way back to you
someday. but no force
of God or man
will make that happen.
it’s beyond your control.
save yourself before
the dead child that is
your relationship
drags you down to the
bottom of the ocean. cut
yourself loose.

you’ll find that eventually
it gets a little easier
to breathe, your burden becomes
a little lighter,
without that albatross
around your neck. or you could
dance with her ghost for the next
ten years. the choice is yours;
I know what I’ve done, and I don’t
recommend it. you too
can learn the science
of saying goodbye.