...

I wish somebody would just stop and tell you, "You know what? He really loves you."

But would it matter?

turnstile

I don't know if it's possible to dive further inside of myself.

At least you tried to let me off easy.

Numerous paranoid fantasies come to mind but I can't allow myself to care too much anymore. Everytime I tried to give my all you struggled and now you've done it for the last time. Like some fool that just attended a self-help seminar, I declare that I have so much to give but I want something dependable and steady. I want to be sure and I want you to be sure.

But you're not.

I can't live like this anymore. I've even surprised myself. My spring flows eternal, apparently. How? Maybe the pain just doesn't faze me anymore. This is life.

why do you care?

Why do you care? This is what I scream at myself. It doesn't matter what you do or how much you love her, or at least, how much you think you love her. You can't will something to happen.

But you don't hear me though...

You won't hear me now. So I will write to you here. I'll ramble here... churn my heart until it stops aching. Words. What words will heal this pain? I just write mindlessly hoping to find that catharsis, some peace, some sleep.

Now I see your pain, unobscured by my own. Now I've cast off my anger. Now I feel like I could present myself to you and feel safe - or at least, not be afraid. But you won't hear me now. You want me to disappear. Erase me.

I spent years crafting an intricate lockbox with an impossible combination and dangerous traps. And for what?! I would easily trade that safety for another whirl, another risk with you.

I am so foolish. So heartless. I didn't see the beauty of what you were offering. I was so blinded.

I'll always remember your eyes. I love your eyes. Especially when you loved me. I could see it in the way you looked at me sometimes. I felt so full.

Sometimes when one is so happy one forgets what else is possible. I'm nothing now. I'm nothing at all. I worked hard for you. I wanted a future. I wanted to make you proud. But I failed because I couldn't see my own darkness and how it was destroying us.

Time will heal all wounds but I don't want to heal yet. I don't want to forget you. I don't want to stop feeling for you. I want to hold you in my heart and arms again. It feels right. My skin tingles and my whole being relaxes. It feels right.

I needed to narrow my scope. Forget the world and everybody else. It's you and me, darling. It's you and me. We could do anything.

Conversation with Self.

Okay boy you said your piece. Now tell me how you really feel. I see you seething inside: mind wandering left, mind wandering right. What if what if what if. Retracing your steps, wondering if that's what it's all about. If this is it. Be good be good be good, they tell you. Do the right thing. Have faith. Believe in people. And you shall be rewarded.

I don't smell any hint of bliss. What kind of world is this when all I can see before me is evil consolation. That I wasn't a total pushover. At least I smelled the lies. Lies always stink and no measure of denial will ever make them pretty. Do you hear me, dearest?

And so it ends just like I imagined. Crash! At last. Slow motion flicker scratched film tick tick tick of the film projector. Boom. Silent film. Our hero is crushed.