Tell All: The Story of Lu VI

"Preparing to break my own heart in his name is like drinking the butterflies away. Can you feel their decaying bodies begging to be blown to a better place? I wish I didn't feel so sick."

At the end of the second year we met, our toxicity only festered. One time you saw me post a guy on my Snapchat story. You were furious. You told me that I couldn't post guys on my story because it made you jealous. I contended that it was only fair. After all, you constantly flaunted your relationships in my face. I explained that I owed you nothing. You lost that argument but I suppose that it didn't matter.

I didn't hear from you for a few days. The only reason I ever did hear from you was your Instagram post. In a fit of anxiety you had posted that you were terrified. You said you had fucked up. I couldn't help but ask what you did. You told me that after we fought, you went for a walk. You came across this other kid who had been bullying one of your brothers.

Of course you picked a fight with him. And you messed him up. You said that he might be paralyzed. I've often wondered the truth behind this story. You had admitted that you had begun to hallucinate. You were seeing dogs in the hallways and people speaking that weren't there. You were having these violent urges. Perhaps the scariest part for you were the nightmares where you killed your whole family.

How do you scare fear? How do you heal trauma? There are no bandages for mental scars. How do I stop a mind from shattering? I did my best to hold your hand in your nightmares.

You started to scare me though. Your anger and frustration was too much. Especially when you got upset with me. I would remind you that I was trying to help but you'd still snap. Eventually I told you that I needed some space. You cried. You begged me to stay. You told me that you loved me and that you needed me. You were too scared and hurting too much for me to be walking out. It killed me to see you hurting this much. I eventually got you to concede to two weeks.

You called me in the middle of the night. Said it was the nightmare again. We didn't even make it eight hours...let alone two weeks. A couple weeks later, you disappeared. You didn't say anything. And for some reason, you were just gone. Where the future lies, the past remains. My heart had stopped beating. My thoughts could only go to this can't be happening again. I could only think of the worst and I spiraled back into the darkness that you had once chased away.

"We can pretend that anything is a shooting star but wishes feel like little nothings and empty promises."

Three years after we met, I began to go to therapy. I had a lot to work on. My history with being abused. An ADHD diagnosis and sexual assault history. I was diagnosed with PTSD.

One thing I noticed was that after I began therapy, I began to listen to much more positive music. I fell in love with the song, "Butterflies" by Kacey Musgraves. It's this beautiful song about falling in love with someone who treats their lover with kindness and compassion. It didn't take long for me to be inspired. And then I wrote of you.

Butterflies

For Lu

"His wings are sky blue

outlined black.

Mine are a fiery orange

speckled white.

Isn't it odd?

We found each other

out of a thousand other bugs

in a garden full of life.

We fell in love

in this garden of hope.

I can feel

millions of butterflies

in my stomach.

And I know

that you do too.

Fragile and beautiful,

like our love-

our beautiful bodies

gentle butterflies

resting in the sunlight.

You hesitate,

scared of the storm.

You hesitate

never ready for the darkness.

Too afraid of falling-

I will wait

until our wings

are no longer tied by fear.

I will wait until all is done

and you are ready.

Yet even I can't help 'what if's.'

Maybe orange and blue

do contrast too much.

Our wings are tied

by our own butterflies."

This poem is still significant to me for so many reasons. This was one of the first poems that I ever tried to publish. Up until this point my poetry was very reminiscent of poetry by Maya Angelou, Langston Hughes, and Robert Frost. When I wrote, I was the embodiment of their inspiration. "Butterflies" was my first real attempt at creating my own poetic style and language.

Perhaps. most relevant to this story, I realized just how I loved you. How after my ex's death, you were the one who tried to love me. And even after all of our issues, you still cared. The issue really was that we were two fucked up individuals trying to love as normal as we could. I was loving you in the ways that drained our energy. You loved me in ways that pissed me off. We loved the best we could but that meant facing the fact that we had no clue how to love.

Here is where I became a little too romantic. I began to believe you were my soulmate. I figured that it explained why even after everything we always found our way back to each other. And even this time, with your disappearance, we could do it again. I just knew it.

"Sunrises and sunsets have nothing on our bodies' silhouettes"