Counting backwards and forwards

I grew up. I grew up; old and weary, but you're still young and wise like you always were. I grew up, and I shouldered countless burdens, most significantly yours, while you're down there blissfully withering. I have lost what has always been to me basal, and in it I found what life actually feels like. I have tasted the bitter poison of it without you, and I have touched some brittle hearts that could've never remained by my side were it not for you. I keep seeing myself older in the mirrors I perceive, and it makes me wonder if I will ever truly perceive this long age or die young like you, because sometimes I feel like my time is exploding from the forever I've lived. My mirrors don't perceive my years— my countless minutes of wishing they count less, and I'm always back to that moment in time when time and mirrors and life itself, all coalesced into agonising non significance.

I am always wistful, for every beautiful thing that happens because of you does not have its main essence. Everything still feels so missing without you, as if you're the one hand that has hand in us all. I keep wishing you see me, and I keep wishing you don't, for I have become such a different being from the one you loved. I keep wishing you see me, and my heart aches with my wish, for it is difficult to keep wishing for something I could never have. It can never be a wishful possibility for me. It can never be anything but a no to me.

So I'm here, marking yet another year, hoping, with all my might and ache, that you know and see what goes on in my life. I hope you can see the smiles I genuinely utter, and the ones I skillfully fake. I hope, in my days of blissful achievements, you can know and cheer for me like my heart really hears. And I hope, in my moments of utter weakness, you pray for me and never look onto me with disdain, for your disappointment would be the final end of one mighty growing. I hope those bricks separating us do actually convey a short distance between us. I hope you can still feel my love from between these veils of earth.

All I have now is to keep counting ya Basel; counting backwards or forwards it no longer matters— I just keep counting.

𝟒 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒

18/4/22