It was just a matter of time.
I wrote before, about an Undercurrent I felt beneath us.
I didn’t know how strong it was, in those moments when we were together. It felt calmer and more predictable than it ended up being. It ripped us apart, throwing one ashore and the other thrust far beneath the surface and pulled quickly out to sea.
I suppose up until the moment it happened, I believed that rip tide would originate closer to where you were swimming. Maybe that’s why it stunned me and caught me off guard. I always thought you’d be hard to hold onto.
I didn’t plan on breaking up with you that night.
A few days prior, I found myself sinking, into the abyss, again. An almost catatonic state where I just want to be alone with no stimulation, just staring out a window and letting time pass. The closest popular term I can use to describe it would be “autistic burnout” but that isn’t quite right. I told you I wanted to be alone, and you seemed like you understood.
Initially the abyss wasn’t about you, but when you began to push, it quickly became about you. From your angle, it could be considered a self-fulfilling prophecy. You were sure you knew what I was about to say, but I didn’t have the slightest clue. I wasn’t in good command of my ability to produce the fast kind of language you need for a spoken conversation, but you pushed and I acquiesced. I felt bad when I realized what it was that you were trying to avoid over-thinking. I decided to try and talk to you even though I felt exhausted and overwhelmed and just wanted to keep hiding. You deserved an explanation.
Maybe if I had put that conversation off one more day we’d be together.
Maybe if you hadn’t been trying to provoke me, we’d be together.
Maybe if I had better explained the abyss to you…
The force of the rip tide hit me, all at once, you see. During the conversation when I was telling you that I didn’t feel like you were interested in me, your response confirmed what I had feared all along. That you were not. Over the course of our relationship, you had carefully wrapped me up in a tight-jacket of your own making, constructed of what I could and could not say. You cannot swim in a tight jacket though, everyone knows that!
Maybe if the Rip Tide hadn’t suddenly come up from underneath me, I would have drowned instead. The real me pushed so far underneath the surface by your casual judgments, your sharp tone, and your harsh corrections. I wonder if you were trying to keep me safe somehow, in your own warped way.
The Rip Tide threw me up on the land, exhausted and dazed, and it pulled you far out to sea. Your eyes have always reminded me of the ocean, such a brilliant blue.
As I sit on the beach, my senses return and the weight pressing hard upon my soul is gone. The commotion has ceased.
I miss you, and I’ll never forget you.
Enjoy the swim. I hope you can catch your breath soon.
