an open-ended letter

to whomever it may concern:

12:12 is nowhere near as glamorous as 11:11, but somehow lately it always catches my eye. i feel as though the cyclical changes that have been transgressing over my form as of late are nearing an end, or, beginning all over again. it has been a bullet wound, pressed with an iron to ward off infection, teeth barred and tearing through a rag to keep my cracked lips from screaming, but in the end necessary. yes, she meant the world to me. yes, she was the shimmering city fallen to it's knees, gnawed and destroyed by the rats, but all in all, she's a good kid. a little confused and with more room to grow than an infant redwood tree, however, i know throughout this entire ordeal i wasn't the picture of statuesque maturity or reverent sainthood. my neurosis, this plague, has faded as our communications grow more blurry and disconnected. i am looking at memories through an old television, the picture still there, marred and distorted, filled in with thousands of ants marching through a bitter snow storm. it is growing later, and my words are turning into the late rounds of an ancient scrabble game, disjointed and misplaced. so many times i sit here and find my fingers rambling across the keys, my thoughts becoming more eloquent with each line, tonight is not one of those nights. i honestly do not care. i have let go entirely and the merry go round is spinning at breakneck speed, and, for once, i don't need her hand to feel comfort or security. i understand that i have left a trail of alienated and disenchanted along the course of my voyage that was caroline eileen feeney, and for this i am sorry. never again will i let someone so alternate my entire being, just to see a smile. i am not afraid to say that i loved her with all of my heart, what i tremble to speak is much more elusive than that. yes, i did love her with all of my heart, now i just have the regret that whoever i so choose to hold it next will be unsatisfied. the innocence has been drained from my orifices, the inner child pillaged and ravaged like three mile island so many years ago. what i need to express is this: caroline, thank you for understanding my neurosis, my jealousy, my twisted way of showing that i cared, and most of all thank you for not letting me get away with any of it. to the friends, acquaintances, and others that i bloodied of distanced from over the last year and a half, i give you my most heartfelt and deeply reaching apology. i love much, i hate more, and i receive both with open arms in return. i can speak from what's left inside this mass of organs and intertwining veins and say this: i have reached a place where i am at peace with who i am, where i have been, where i am going, and most importantly where i want to be. thank you for seeing me through the darkness.

kevin