i had assumed distance would heal my wounds. that time would make my heart grow fonder. time and distance are only components of the same space; interchangeable. and yet neither has brought me the comfort i so desperately tried to strangle from it.

i was justified in my wrongs because of the wrong you had done to me. i still don't know who you are, so why allow you to know me? but now, this string of silk collecting dew drops and dust all the same, i've somehow fashioned into my own noose.

if i cannot let go, and i cannot reconnect, how do things continue from here? i tell everyone i love that i hate you, and i tell both of us that i love you. no one here will ever know who i was, but you won't ever learn who i am.

it is melodic, it is dissonant, it is Juliet's sweet sorrow. the depth of a love that cannot exist, and the paradox that it persists.

save me, mom, i'm dying of thirst.