by: Sarah Fader
I found you and you found me and that means something…
I found love once.
It was 5000 miles away from me.
I found it. I held it. I touched it…
It touched me.
Love touched me.
Love saw into my soul and through it. Threw it.
Threw it across the ocean.
When he broke my heart.
Love ran from me.
It looked me in the eyes and it told me its hands were broken.
I reached into my heart I took it out of my body and I handed it to love.
Love looked at my heart and told me it was beautiful. But it couldn’t hold it.
“I am afraid of my broken hands.” Love said.
“Don’t be.” I said.
I am not afraid. I am afraid. But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter.
I found you and you found me and that means something and why…why can’t we be together?
I feel crazy writing this. Like I’m alone totally alone in this.
How could you touch me deep inside literally and physically and then go far away?
How dare you.
My heart is valuable.
Maybe it’s my fault. I gave it to you without thinking, without wondering what would happen. Maybe I go headfirst. Maybe I live through my heart.
You told me that once. I thought that’s what you loved about me.
None of it mattered enough to you because I gave my deepest parts of myself to somebody with broken hands.
I don’t care that your hands are broken.
I’m a doctor.
I’m your surgeon.
I’m your physical therapist.
I have what you need.
It’s not my fault that you’re too blind to see it.
I’m not responsible for the fact that you’ll never read this.
I told the truth – my truth.
And if it angers you so what?
If it embarrasses you I don’t care.
You know what you did.
I know what I did.
Two play a part in this game.
Don’t ask me what I want from you.
I don’t know.
All I know is that I found you. And I have the strength to stay. Even if you don’t.