I didn’t want to pin you on my wall, for fear you’d tear it down just as much as you did me.
My This Condition bracelet broke that morning and along with it,
so did my heart.
And along with it so did a few other things, like namely my perception
And how it can just as easily fail and stop and how everyone thinks
that one day they’ll be in love for good,
But honestly there’s a chance you never will again. That’s why it’s so hard for me to let go sometimes,
I get the feeling I’m losing something that’ll never come back.
when that bracelet broke,
It felt as if all those events, memories, days and nights in which that bracelet had witnessed decided to just collapsed onto the floor,
In the same manner as I did that one night where the truth in my head became all too much for my body to support.
That bracelet has stayed with me through more days than any other fellow person has.
It stayed by my side, on my wrist like a weight, for nearly two years before my life became too much for it to handle.
It witnessed the Summer and Fall of what once was a beautiful relationship,
It saw the saddest winter of my life.
A winter that no other accessory had the opportunity to see,
and It even was there for when I was built back up again and found a true lover and a true friend in the summer days.
This small band of rubber saw the day I collapsed, It saw all the days and weeks and months after.
Those months after in which I struggled to pick up what was once my innocent body.
He sat there and watched as I fell for another girl, different from those who seem like mere fantasies I once had.
He came with me to her room, he brushed up against her wrist as we held our hands together.
He was searching for a friend himself, someone to wrap around his wrist. that’s when he began to break,
Splitting a crack between the “R” and “I” of the pressed in letters written down his spine.
He got sick and tired of seeing me happy, just like all my other friends. he wanted me to forget him,
He wanted me to find another reason to look at my life differently. He wanted me to write this very story for him.
He wanted to strike fear into my heart that morning, that morning I was certain we wouldn’t make it through.
That morning he had enough, so he took all the weight of mine he was carrying and slit himself from my wrists.
He knew I’d replace him, just like I had all the other girls he once saw me share hands with.
But I didn’t, I showed him. Now one wrist stands bear, another spot on my skin uncovered to remind me,
To remind me that all good things must come to an end.
Since that morning, you and I have recovered and I’ve given you my hand to hold once again.
He’s not there anymore, and some nights when we’re laying side by side
I can hear your own wrist shouting out.
Your wrist whimpers, just like me, and I’m just glad that I’m not the only thing In this world missing him.