what have i done.

you don't even know where to start.
all of your stories have different endings, but the beginnings are all fairly clear.
this beginning is much more ambiguous. you don't know where it left off. that's not entirely true. it left off when you blocked his phone calls and blocked his emails. But now, you don't know where it fits it and so you don't know what you're supposed to do with it. it defies all the rationalizations and categorizations and compartmentalizations that you've made over the past decade in regards to Phillip.

he sent you a text message sometime last year at one o'clock in the morning asking, "were we ever friends?" and you ignored it because of the time and because you didn't think he had his head on straight. maybe he would have regretted talking to you in the morning.

when you were in a moment, where the bunny ears weren't adjusted right, and everything was very grainy and you kept on calling and calling at 2am because the light was on in what you mistakenly thought was his apartment building, it was his neighbors light. You and his neighbor became friends after you stopped talking with Phillip. He was an amazing writer, caustic and shy, capable of great kindness and sarcasm. He died a month ago, so after complete radio silence for four years, you told Phillip. It seemed like righteous motivations.

but now you're so confused. some days you wake up and feel like you found the other pea of your platonic pea pod, other days, he's your unicorn and you've done enough of sitting and being a virgin to know that he's the unicorn to your virgin and that you're the unicorn to his virgin. you cried yourself to sleep last night, lamenting the fact that it took four years for you to figure out that men have emotions and are human, which was essentially, the lack of understanding you had when you were together. he was a possession, not an entirely seperate entity from you and not a reflection of you.

'what have i done.' that's what you think today. tomorrow, you may be ten shades of happy that he is married to a beautiful woman with the most adorable daughter. taking care of his mother. being an adult. and you may be so happy that he has found the freedom to be all of these things, husband, father, son, with someone else. you have to remember, 'it wasn't me. he didn't do these things with me.'

and do you allow yourself to dream about what happens with either feeling, how do they play out, what do they look like, so that you can figure out how do you act, what is appropriate behavior. it's all very ambiguous. after a year of practicing meditation, that's where you turn. inwards, watching the emotions as they stick to certain places in your body, recognizing the feelings and listening to what feels right, turn to page 100. to make up some fan fiction, turn to page 101.