Ryan_D

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Our story is a long and complicated one.  For as long as I've known Jasmine we've clicked. She is a very intelligent, sophisticated and beautiful woman and we seemed to gravitate toward each other quickly. She was a poet and I loved that. I admired how someone could be so passionate about doing something that they weren't asked to do or paid to do. I was a writer and I wrote in my free time but she was TRUELY a writer who breathed poetry and words. Yeah, I was impressed and loved to be around her.

Well as we grew closer, things got much more difficult and complicated for me, and  for the both of us. I had never been with anyone as "right for me" as Jasmine was. Soon, the closer she wanted to get to me, the further I tried to push her away. I am a very private person, with a fondness for not leaning or depending on anyone and have always cringed at the idea of anyone depending on me for anything. I had never spoke it out loud but I was on the path towards being alone forever. Jasmine threw a wrench in that plan and completely changed my outlook. 

She was so strong as I inevitably grew closer and our love grew stronger, yet I pulled further away  and sabotaged our relationship. I was a rollercoaster of fear and independability. I'm not beating myself up, I'm just being real. I treated her like shit, and then I'd treat her like my princess. I was so confused,and clearly, so was she. 

During one of our fights, I said that we shouldn't be together. We weren't broken up for very long, maybe a few days, but she had had enough. She made her plans to move to San Diego, she was going to do what was best for her. Because I wasn't.  So we spent the remainder of our relationship with the knowledge that she was going to be moving. In some ways, we were strongest in those moments when we felt it wasn't going to last forever. We'd love, laugh, write, and pain together, intensely. As it came  closer to the time for her to go, I had become so distraught, sad, and guilty for letting her go that she no longer had access to the man that she loved, wanted so badly.

When she left, it felt like the worst thing that had ever happened to me, EVER.  I remember her soft sad blue tearing with mine for the last time. I wanted to tell her to stay. To not leave, but i couldn't, I wouldn't. 

Well, I tried to contact her via Myspace comment and write her letters in code: (Poetry)

I let you hold my pen.. I took it out of it's protective sleeve. It's covered in only my prints and my fingers still have the curve of that Pilot. They naturally curve to the truth as I saw it.

My fingers still move, now, connected to that truth that you write. Blind strokes are giving me hand cramps. the truth is coming too fast for me to keep up. I'm sayin... I want my PEN BACK!

Better yet! I want your truth to slow down and stop so I can catch you with large strides and trace your history/ my future. I want to walk side-by-side with those dark drops that pulled us apart. the drops that you left so I could find you.

So, can I get my pen back?

See, you can't use it it for long. Its ink comes from all the times that I've stared at the stars and saw your face amongst them, from all the misheard echos that bounce off these walls, from my 1 step forward, 2 steps back syndrome, from the, " I can see why you could hate me" place. This foolsh martyr's blood flows directly in to the grooves of that pen. It turns black from lack of oxygen, cuz I can't breathe, not until I have my pen back.

Right about now my ink is running out and you, surely, are having to double back to make your truth legible; if you can get anything out at all. I wish my steps tugged those fingers of yours into submission; that my watery sight made your grip slippery to the touch; that my mood turned that ink from black to red. Let's make a deal. My pen for your memories. An equal exchange. No funny business. Same time, man.  I don't know you. Same time.

So, so you gon hold it hostage? Even though It's out of words, you'd still keep it as a trophy in your pocket cuz it's nice to look at?

I guess that the only way to get mine back is to give you your's huh?

But nothing would get through to her. I had to tell her that I wanted her, that I'm sorry for letting her go and that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. Her answer: "What?"  It was the scariest thing that I've ever had to do and the most worth-it thing. Now I have decided to move to San Diego with her and I will NOT let her go again.

 I'll write write later about what I think was going through her mind (she'll kill me)

Holla at ya. I love these Icons!