i knew i wasn’t gonna find you so i gave up the dream
and even though once, i thought i finally came close, i didn’t let the dream come back.
you were best forgotten and anyway,
i needed more room for the possible.
i tried to laugh often and fill up the space around me so i wouldn’t notice what wasn’t there
(any room you’re not in is empty as far as i’m concerned)
after a dream dies, there’s also the burial (and the haunting) and
so a part of me was still waiting.
i could feel it trying to bring me back to the impossibility of you
but i couldn’t let that happen.
and i promise not that long ago
your arrival was a truth i believed in
but every room i walked into was empty and
you took your time and the shadows in my heart got bigger and bigger
and then eventually they were all that was left.
if i’m honest
a part of me still hoped that maybe i was wrong and you were out there after all
and maybe you were writing about the shadows, too
but i inherited the homesick hearts of three generations of women
who waited for something that almost belonged to them but never did
and i couldn’t hold on to that.
if i’ve failed you i’m sorry,
but if i’m right about this you’re already on your way home to
so i’m saying this here,
so that i can let go.
I forgive you for not knowing the way to me.
I forgive every map that led you to a room i’d never walk into.
I forgive you for every arrival
— Y.Z, an honest letter to a forgotten dream