Dear Ash,

        Have you ever felt what I'm feeling? Do you know what my pain is? Do you understand the conflict in my head trying to decide and grasp what I can, but I can't. I can't make any decisions without knowing that you'd be there, with words of wisdom and support with whatever I do. I cannot grasp at my thoughts, only reach. I can only reach at what used to be solid and clear, but now incinerated into ash almost vapur. The ash, so small and dark but so many signs and senses telling me it was still hot. That touching it after I already had would cause a wound. A burn, singing my skin to cause pain and something I had to treat. Letting it too close for too long would cause a deeper burn, a spot on my skin that would scar, not be the way it was again.

     I am constantly making sure that whatever I did since you were gone is something that you would want to do, or want me to do. So, when you came back, you'd be happier with me. And you are coming back. You have to be. So I will write, and continue. I will continue on with how things were, but without you.

     What am I saying? I can't be the same since you were gone. I can't be how I was before you disappeared. I am how I am now. And I? I am a person who wanders. Wanders down streets and unknown places wondering. Wondering about whether or not you are conscious. Whether or not you care if I am. I wonder at night if you are looking at the same stars, the same moon and galaxies. Wondering about if you know this pain. The pain that swallows you, traps you until you are the pain. Until there is no you, and it. There is only it. It consumes your thoughts, your head, your actions and you.

     I wonder if you know this fear. The kind that can't be described and that in the middle of all the pain, it's there. Beady eyes staring at you, scaring you. Making you think that there is no such thing as safety anymore. That safety and security were myths, children's tales, made up.

    I wonder if you know this confusion. The thing that makes your head fuzzy, no thoughts being processed. The thing that is a wall, a wall between you, and clarity. The wall that traps you with voices, screaming so loud and fast that you can't understand. It makes you desperate. Desperate to know what you've done wrong and only filling you with thoughts of how, when, who, where, and...

     Why.

     Do you know the desperation? Do you know the feeling that makes you wish that whatever needed to be done you could do, or get, or make. The desperation that clings to your shoulders, weighing you down. The kind that presses on your chest as you try to forget. The desperation that says that you should give anything, everything, and more to fix things. That punishment is not enough, that you have to be nothing and disappear to make someone happier. The smaller, quieter voice begging. Pleading and repeating the same words over and over. Please forgive me, please forgive me, please forgive, please, please, please. The small picture of you, planning to be on your knees as a last attempt to be forgiven. The last resort on the steps to the person being free, and happy.

    Do you know these feelings Ash? Do you know what it's like to be afraid, desperate, and the worst kind of confused? Do you think about these things, as you try to sleep and as soon as you wake up? Do you look in a mirror, and watch as a tear slips out? Thinking that you've done everything wrong. Do you get haunted by the thoughts telling you that you aren't good enough? That people like you had very good reasons for leaving? Do you think of these things? Do you look at the clock on your bedside table and realize that it's three in the morning, that you hadn't fallen asleep due to your thinking? Do you ever contemplate giving up? Giving up on what you're looking for and think that it had to have a reason to leave that was more important than yourself. Do you lose sleep, positivity and yourself Ash? Do you understand what you leaving has left me with?

     You leaving, has left me with the worst things I could imagine. Except now, I'm not imaging. I'm feeling, I realize what's happening and what happens isn't great. What happens when someone so important leaves really sucks.

    You leaving caused a canyon in my routines. The sudden disappearing act you performed left me with things I've never had to encounter, emotions i've only ever felt a handful of times though not to this extent, problems I've never had to go through and deal with. The canyon, the differences, were just big holes that you used to fill. The canyon the same size as your heart. Your heart, which I used to think was in my hands, filling the land that the canyon occupies.

   In the land of performers, the goal is to perform what they wouldn't expect and make the audience or whoever's viewing feel things. You'd want to get the audience to feel, be surprised, happy, sad, mournful, etc. if you were a performer Ash, you'd have just performed a five star act. This is the part that the person viewing cries, and is mourning while waiting desperately to see what happens in the next minute or episode. This is the part, in the series or singular movie, that the person watching wants to know what happened, the truth, why you left. The only thing is, the person being left and the viewer are doing and feeling the same things. The exact same things.

    I guess that's it Ash. The paper is crumpling, almost folding. I'll let you guess why.

All the love, and still waiting. Forever waiting,

Michael

Word count: 1027