In my mother's bathroom

I wish I could explain to somebody

What I'm feeling

What I felt

And what I would probably always feel for you

But most importantly

I wish I could properly expound on it to myself

It is literally beyond my comprehension

As I write this I'm sick

Literally sick

I'm trying to settle my mind and stomach 

Praying not think of you

Begging my food to stay down

But as usual 

I can not

I've erased all

Of our correspondences today

But not before reading them all 

One last time

Just to be sure 

I wasn't completely psychotic or confused 

And I not 

There were pages upon pages

Upon pages

Of mutually sent texts

And emails 

Expressing flirtation 

lust

Friendship

And love 

Dated 2010 to just a few days ago

I'm in awe of

Why I let you take me on a three year journey through hell

Trying to sort out 

what was in it for me

Other than you?

Was there a promise of money

Immorality 

Or some existential understanding? 

But none were found in those pages

I'm done

I've said it before

But I can not do this

I usually would write you a scathing email or text to convey my feelings

To which you would either ignore or discredit 

But in this quiet much needed moment of clarity found in the bathroom of my mothers house

With my head pressed against the cold sturdy and somehow comforting porcelain of her toilet where I just emptied out my breakfast

Is where I will let it out. 

I will strangely always love you 

For what you've shown me about me

And as I say you name one last time

I release you