If I died tonight - How would you feel

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short piece on relationships, non-rhyming.

Submitted: December 09, 2010

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Submitted: December 09, 2010



If I died tonight, how would you feel ?
Sad, crying of course, but how would you really feel ?
Would your mind feel liberated of the worry, of the pain of our relationship, at last free from the rocks that dragged your ship to utter destruction. Yes FREE, free to sell the house and take the money and escape, do what you like.
Or are you sad, losing something special, a person that can never be replaced, someone who you met and understood on a level that you never thought possible. Someone that when things were bad didn’t make things worse and sometimes made things better.
Someone who made you smile when you saw them
Or was it someone that made you tense when they walked through the door, darkened the room and made you want to hide away behind your work or your computer, hiding in a film or behind a bottle of wine.
I will never know, as I will be dead, you could have lied to me all our time together, told me you loved me and half felt there was once something that has long since been lost. Or maybe it was me, believing you never loved me, but deep down there was a feeling so sincere, so pure that nothing could damage it.
I know I loved the best I could, but given that my emotions were so confused I don’t know if I ever did. I wanted to, I wanted to every day, but did I ?.
Perhaps its best I die tonight, perhaps it’s best that the insecurity in our relationship is gone, leaving clean fresh air, a new start, some sun back in your life. Or would it be a shadow, would it be so bad, so devastating that it would push you to the brink. We all in a nice way want this, expect this of our partner, but that is our desire, its not reality.
I don’t expect you to cry too long, life is too short to cry. I don’t expect too many kind words, just enough to bury me. The thoughts are yours and always will be, it’s up to you if you want to put them in a dusty box in the loft or keep them clean and fresh in your mind.
In the end does it matter what I think, I will be dead anyway. The sorrow for me if it was possible to have any, would be the incomplete deeds, the actions started and never finished, the things that gave some hope for the future that never came to fruition. I would love to see you as our son grew up, how you would smile at those special moments.
But I can’t, as I will be dead.
I remember the first moment I saw you, our first kiss, my awkwardness the first time we made love, the many caring moments when I had no doubt about your love. I remember all the nasty things I thought, all the negative views I had, lost in my paranoia I could blame you for anything and often did, but not openly not as a person should to another person, but a closeted blind hate that you couldn’t fight, because you couldn’t see it. You could feel it, react to it, but never know why it was there. Now as I die I can shed a tear and think what a bastard I was, why did I do it…but does that help ?. No not at all, it doesn’t change that I felt I was a bastard when I did it and hated myself for it.
So its best I go, I don’t think I can offer more, my life it tainted, not by you, but by the bitter battle between how I should have behaved and how I did behave.
If I wasn’t dead I would miss you.

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