Dear My Helicopter Pilot,
It has been more than three years since my last confession. I have been through the forest and I have come out with a totally different outlook than I had when I went in. That outlook. That vision. That epiphany, if you wanna call it that, is you. The epiphany hit me when I questioned myself for the thousandth time, "why are you still thinking about her?" The answer to me was painfully obvious.
The truth is, when you were, in my eyes, "freaking out", I was freaking out. You even told me so. I didn't want to believe it but there it was the whole time. I made you freak out and that in turn made me freak out. I guess what I am saying is that I may have fueled the fire a lot more than I thought. I blame me for a lot of things. Mostly running away. That's my M.O. I don't know where it comes from but that's not what this is about.
What this is about is this: I have had ample time to "forget about you." No dice! I still have you on my mind... in my thoughts... on my phone... consuming my desire... caressing my memories...
When I think of where you are today, I think a ton of shit. You have moved on. I have moved on. Your three stars have undoubtedly moved on. What can a thousand plus days really do to us? I made a choice that I probably knew was wrong. Again. And now I feel like the biggest dick in the world. The first one should have told me what I needed to hear... not what I wanted to hear. And then I listened to the second voice and it said that I didn't need you. Fuck! Wrong again... I guess that's where this whole thing is coming from. This is my confession to you.
I confess that I was wrong a lot more times than you. I was wrong for not coming home that night and leaving you wondering where the fuck I was til 10 in the morning. I was wrong when I didn't tell you that I loved you when you needed me most. I was wrong when I turned you away when all you needed was a little confirmation of our bond. I was wrong when I treated you so poorly that I wanted to kill myself. I was wrong to let you go.
My base keeps telling me two things. One, if I never see you again, I will have shortcut myself. I will have self-fulfilled my own prophecy and live haunted forever. Two, if I ever find you again, I will truly do anything and everything I can to never let the stupid and fucked up shite ever get in our way again. I think I have said that before, and you have heard that before.
My promise, my commitment, my soul self-engraved vow is to take what you give me and preserve it for eternity. To take the gargoyles in my mind and set them in front of us to ward off all the evil that surrounds us. To let us be the Abe Lincolns that we were once before.
I dream of you all the time. I fantasize about us all the time. I remember the feeling that I had with you and I have desperately tried to recreate that and I just simply cannot. The taste is different. The smell is unbearable. The passion is bland. The texture is off. The comfort levels are all wrong. The feeling doesn't feel right. The mind doesn't think the same way. It's just wrong.
The only thing I expect from this is nothing. I don't expect you to read this. And if you do, I don't expect you to come running back to me. This is just me 'fessing to the shit and the processes that I have been dealing with ever since you drove away in tears. This is the process that I have been compiling since you walked out of my store that afternoon. I should have replied long before now but, the voices said no!
Don't say yes, just say maybe.......
-SR
