Things I sometimes wanted to say . . .

. . . things I'm not sure you ever wanted to hear.

                But it doesn't matter anymore.  Maybe it never did.



2.

I woke up today the way I used to every day - feeling tired of everything.  The world is too much right now.  And all I want to do is sleep and not wake up.  I've had enough.  More than enough.  And yet it seems I never quite get what I actually need, whatever that is.

I barely left my room today.

Sometimes I feel as if, my entire life, I have been trying to run away from myself.  Sometimes I wonder if, even in death, I will fail.



4.

You weren't smiling when you woke up.  Not the way he used to. 

My chest is overflowing and I thank you.  The corners of your mouth curve up, your eyes filled with sunlight and green earth, and you ask why.

"For being here," I say with guilt.  What I'm trying not to tell you, what I am actually thinking, is this: I'm sorry I am alive and stealing your time away.  I'm sorry that I exist.



6.

You wink at me as you walk by, flag in hand, victorious.  Suddenly everything is okay.  I don't want to trust you, to believe in you, to fall for you.  But it's already happening. 

I never asked for any of this.



8.

I said to you that it would take more than a miracle to save me. 
"So you need two miracles," you reply with a chuckle.  "Well, that can be arranged." 

Right now I am listening to a song called "Miracles Don't Happen". 

I can't afford to have hope.



9.

The problems I have, my inability to let go of the past, they're all in my mind, this I know.  But my mind's made up, and I don't really want it to change.  But maybe I do.  I'm sorry that I'm not much more than a conditioned animal.  I'm sorry there is no undo button in life.  I don't want my world to come crashing down, as much as living in it hurts right now.  But maybe I don't know what I want.  I don't want to have to rebuild myself.  _Again.  This I know.

Someone did a tarot reading of my love life once.   The card that came up for my ideal scenario was the one for abandonment. 

The thing is, I want you in my life.  And I want you to stay.  The walls that I have so carefully rebuilt are crashing down to let you in. 


But you're already walking away.



12.

It's stronger now, feeling as if I am out of space, out of time.  That feeling of being an unnecessary limb poking out in the worst possible place?  I still have it.  No one ever wanted me here, now.  I know it's not true, but how I feel doesn't change.

It hurts, and it won't go away.