vexatious (infuriating sequel)

chapter ninety-one

january 4th, 2022

with my book in every store you can possibly name, my devotion did more good than bad. when i went home, i fell apart. i lost control of my life and i did things i never imagined myself to do, just in hopes that i'd feel alright eventually.

sure, my coping mechanisms weren't exactly healthy. drinking and smoking aren't things you should do in the wake of an end to an epic love. so instead, i began to turn to my writing for comfort. i found peace within the pages, and before i knew it, i was a published author.

you are still mine, and i am still yours. the two years of time between then and now means nothing to me. you will always be mine, and i will always be yours. of course i miss you, i said i would, didn't i? i no longer cry every morning, nor do i find myself in deep pain during the nights. i admit, i have buried myself in a grave of false hope. i think that one day, you will read the book i wrote about you, and you will call me. maybe we'll meet up at a coffee shop, and we'll catch up. moving back to LA was a tough decision to make, but it was the best for my career. i knew being back here would hurt me, but it has been worth it so far. from time to time, i think i will see you walking down the street. i consider visiting our favorite places, in hopes that maybe you still go there. i have no idea what you're up to, because i've sworn myself off from checking your social media. i can't know what your life is looking like, because if i do—i don't know if i'll be able to hold myself back. you see, i have spent the last two years working and begging god for mercy. i never was a believer, but you changed me in many ways. you showed me a world of emotion i know can only be true by some extraterrestrial being controlling them.

you are still the only person i have ever loved, and i will always miss you. the longing has not dissolved, and i still hope that one day you'll come back to me. maybe we both needed the time and space to grow into the people we know we could've been all along.

my mother told me—one night that i was breaking down during—that i couldn't expect a heroic act to come from such a troubled boy. she was right, but that doesn't mean i won't stop wishing for a better ending for us.

being an author isn't all i thought it'd be, it's actually kind of stressful. there is so much pressure being placed on me to write more, edit more, and improve more. i know the lifestyle fits me much better than my previous one, but that doesn't mean i don't still struggle. when my father passed away, i wanted to quit. instead, i turned it into my next project. i took the pain to my pen and i wrote until i couldn't say any more on the topic. i almost called you one of those long dreadful nights of grieving, but i figured it would do be no good to hear your angelic voice. it would only feel good for a little while, and then that joy would corrupt itself into pain and misery. i can't hear your voice when i can not have you in my arms.

i loved you more than life, and i still do. i will always care for you in ways that i can not explain to another human. it doesn't make sense to me either. it will never make sense how so much time could pass, but there has not been a single day in which i have not thought of you. i think i was right when i said our souls were intertwined. i think it was much more true than i ever wanted it to be. i think we are the same person, deep down somewhere. i think we are much closer than it seems.

see, i don't miss you as much, not because you have left my mind, but because you are still here with me. in small places of my heart, i find you. when i complete simple tasks such as showering, i notice how i no longer blow-dry my hair. that is a habit i got into because of you, colby.

you are still here with me, because you are a part of me now. you live on inside of me, and i love it. i love the parts of myself that remind me of you, because they're all i have left.

i will always love you. i will never stop longing for the love we shared, even if it is far gone.