i just miss my soulmate

i dont think of you as a lover anymore, or a friend, or a brother. i dont think of you as those phone calls, or those text messages, or those feelings, or those drawings, or those fairytales, or those tears, or those smiles. i dont think of you as this song or that song, or this line or that line, or here or there, or this day or the next or the one before or the month before or the month before that. i dont think of you as my betrayal, or my monolith, or my messiah. i just miss you. i miss being around. i dont think of you as wanting to know how you are. i just miss you. i dont think of you as wishing you were hurt. i just miss you. i dont think of you "as this person is better". i just miss you. you aren't the worst, definitely not the best. you aren't a "the". you aren't an "a". you aren't your name, or your face, or your friends, or what i used to find cool about you, or what i don't like about you. you aren't anything now; you used to be my friend. i don't know if i want that again. i just miss you.

i just want you to be truthful. i want you to stop hiding. i want to become a strength trainer, and i want to be the very best at it, and i want to lift heavy heavy weights, just to be able to churn through the steel curtains you're hiding behind. you've always been hiding behind.* i want you to see how the metal wrinkles around my fingers, and i want you to be grateful. i want you to open up to me. i hate it when things are left unsaid, or when i know somebody wants to tell me something and doesn't. you aren't losing anything by talking to me. if there was ever a thing lost by talking to someone else, someone who wouldn't hurt you, its absence would be for the best.

i want to say that i understand, but i don't. maybe understanding feels like surrender. maybe i don't want to surrender because, what am i surrendering to? you, or your lies? are you yourself a lie? can you tell me you've never lied to me, and if you could, can you tell me it truthfully? could i hear a pause between each word and in that pause a tinge of guilt? or would each word flow as though it were a river our ancestors both walked through, our past selves both walked through? if i saw that river again in your words would i remember something? if i didn't remember anything upon hearing you say that you've never lied to me, would that mean you were lying? is god real? if you aren't a phone call, or a text message, or a feeling, or a drawing, or a fairytale, or a tear, or a smile, or a song, or a name, or a face, or a future, are you a lie?

are you lying to me?

have you always been?

is the key to that door, over there, in a chest box that i can only find ahead of you?

if so,

can you kiss me once before i go?