This one

This one is just for you - my friend.

You are all that there is to me and yet I am loosing you - fearing loosing you.

You say that you don't know now; that you have not known for some time, but you don't know how long.

Well, you say, from that time when you think that I did something so wrong and, unlike you, I know that I did not but I do know that you may never even try to believe that.

I think you have a coldness - I don't think its yours, you were given it and you still have a hold of it when you could have let it go, put it down, kindly said "thanks, but no".

You have, for me, lost your fire and I should, should... should such a word... leave you be really. Cut my losses and walk away as I have before. Cut the albatross from around my neck, killed the fucking goose of endless unrequited promise.

This though, I'm not prepared to do - my loss is too great. It not just you that I loose but my boys, my time and so much more.

Things and people - those attachments - my codependent time-travelers. I should know better, know that they only .... no, not "they". I only let them cause me pain.

What I feel is what I do. And, of course I have choice, the choice to cut the rope and drop into eternity, endless falling or to continue to hang here constricted, choking and die.