Who Knew

A broken heart continues to beat, inspite of wishing it would stop.

Caro mio ben,

credimi almen, senza di te languisce il cor.

Another Blood Suday

I don't even know what to write.

It's been a week. A week since you said you were never able to fully be yourself with me. That I stifled you. That you wanted to experience the "finer things in life".

A week since I asked you to leave me alone.

You know, when we were together--inseparable--you said you were happy. That you'd never felt about someone the way you felt about me. That what we had was more real, more powerful, more than you had ever experienced. It couldn't have been more. Not if you were never fully you. Not if I stifled you. Not if I kept you from experiencing the "finer things in life". I admit, I was angry, very angry. Had I known you were trapped in a some conservative jar of my making I would have done you a favor and left. I never would you stayed another year, the year I stayed to be with you. I thought you were honest, maybe you were so stifled you didn't even realize your misery. I don't know. I'll never know.

I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a salt encrusted field caught in a perpetual wind.

Double Standard

"F**k off" eh?

Guess that means you're not coming.

Blatantly refused my apology eh?

Well, you didn't even say you were sorry.

Nice that you can throw daggers but can't handle them yourself.

It's all about you isn't it. All about you.

Today I hate.

Rally

I learned, while standing in the ER watching a girl die, that the heart rallies the hardest minutes before it officially gives up.

That's what you're doing.

But this time I'm prepared for the silence.

Ouch

I've felt the sting all day. The burning, piercing, lightening strike pain that only knowledge can so eloquently carve into one's soul. My soul cries for your soul. I. I am numb. But my soul waits on the front porch day in and day out, convinced you're coming back. Me, I know you're not. But I can't convince her otherwise. She's relentless in her optimism. I try and wrap her in the dark cloak of truth and drag her kicking and screaming to the mirror, but she won't look. Won't open her eyes and see what's so obviously not there: you.

Every day the sun rises and I say, "he didn't come, I knew he wouldn't". Then as the hours slip by and the moon eases its way into the sky I look at her. She stares back, pitiful and bright eyed, stating with the surety of a child, "not today, but tonight".

I keep waiting for the day when she'll catch up with the rest of me, shoulders hung in defeat, eyes downcast, tired and worn. I wait and dread that moment when the last piece slowly falls into place and I am whole again. I feel like I've been waiting a long, long time. I pray I don't have to wait much longer.

To me you were a wonderful dream.
To me you are a nightmare.
To me you will be a memory.
One day. One day soon.

Disenchanted

I am.

The magic is gone, replaced by the brutal reality of what is, not what I want it to be

WHY DO I CARE????

Why do I bloody care today? When did this f'n hope slither back in? It's poisoning my soul and adding to my craziness. I feel that it's forced me back into the cage I thought I left behind. My mind wanders, and worries, and thinks of the most horrid scenarios. You, without me. With someone else. Angry. Annoyed. Regretful. They all combine in the most excruciating scene that plays over and over and over in my head.

I can't do it any more. I won't do it any more. The game is up. I surrender. I thought I already did this but I guess I have to do it again. For THE LAST time. I swear it's the last time.

I hate Sundays

I hate them. Everything is exacerbated on Sundays. Too much time to think, and even more time to feel. Today I feel. I was doing so good numbing out, but it caught up with me today. If I had any tears left I'm sure I'd cry. But I'm all dried up. So no tears, just a dull ache in the pit of my stomach and heaviness in my chest. What to do, what to do. You were more invasive this week than you've been in two months. I stopped sleeping again. Not that I ever really slept, but there were three days of complete peace and slumber. That seems to have vanished, along with my strength to do what needs to be done. It's because you've been nice and more attentive this last week than you've been in months. Just when I was getting use to the asshole who took you away, you come back. I prayed for this several weeks ago. Of course you haven't come back, not really. I live in fear and denial. I had taken two steps into the realm of moving on and then you called my name. What did I do? I turned around and looked back. Should have focused on the road ahead and kept moving. Now I know less than I knew a week ago. So confused. I honestly wonder what you want. What do you want from me? You made yourself so clear, you buried your half and moved on. Or at least that's what you told me. So why the return? What freaked you out to the point of coming back? And are you genuine or is this just a weak phase. I'm betting on weak phase. I thought you'd have cracked by now. I though wrong. But this week, this week you'll cave, and leave as randomly as you came back.

I should hate you for this.
I should hate me for this.

Curiosity killed the cat
This cat is tired of being killed but can't help wondering.
Gets me in trouble every time.

Split

I wonder what it would be like to not think about this, you, everything. It's consuming and exhausting. I think about it when I wake up, during the day, as I sleep. I'm constantly thinking. It's getting to the point where I'm frustrated and resentful that you occupy so much of my time and energy. I mean it's not your fault, but it's still you. And how awful is it that THE day I start to feel peace, THE day I feel like I can let you go and not completely fall apart, THE day I feel strong, you come back. I've wanted you to come back for months; but not now, not when I've cried all I have to cry, and given you everything I have to give. I feel like I'm continually being robbed of my sanity. I can't live in this tide, no one can live in this tide. You love me. You don't love me. You love me. You don't love me. It's like pulling petals off a never ending flower. I don't trust you any more, one more loss. Part of me wants to, but reality tells me I can't. Words are easy, putting those words into practice takes so much more. I honestly don't believe you have it in you. I wish you did, but I know you well enough to know that it's too overwhelming to even entertain. I'm too overwhelming to entertain. Yes, I want to see you again, I want to touch you again, and hold you again, and laugh with you again. No, I don't want to see you and realize that the love really is gone, and we're better off walking our separate paths. Either way it's misery. Complete and utter misery. That's what you are becoming to me, excruciating pain. The hollow ache that won't go away. The wound that continually gets ripped open. The breath keeps getting knocked out of me. It took me so long to stand up, and now I'm back down again, gasping for air and looking for an escape.

It's been four months. Four long, miserable months. What made you think there is anything left to be salvaged? You asked me to give up, and that's what I did. Why is it now, after I've crested the mountain and started walking to the other side that you come back? I don't know what to believe any more, so I don't believe anything. I do what I can to stifle the pitiful hope that creeps in and taints my spirit.

You said you'd call. I don't believe you.
You said you were coming. I don't believe you.
You said you love me. I don't believe you.

You are scared
You are confused
You are miserable without me but not able to mend that misery
You hate that I left, took back some control and left you alone
You lie to yourself, and me
You. You exhaust me.

Please stop toying with me.
Please pick a side and stay there.
Please come back and make this better.
Please stay away and don't make this any worse.
Please, please, please.

I don't know any more

I've entered the land of apathy where I no longer know anything. Days are spent tiptoeing around the shadows--pure avoidance. You come back, you go away, you come back, you go away. Each time you return I hope, only to have that hope taken back. I don't even hope anymore. I've been forced into numbness, it's the only coping mechanism I have left. I don't know what I believe. My mind, my heart, they don't know either. I see the value in walking away, letting it all slip into the River Styx. That thin line separating mortality and Hell. I think I've been living in Hell, and I need to wade back to something real. I just don't know if you'll ever wade with me.

Hey love.

It's Friday night and I'm scrambling for something to do...other than think about what you're doing and who your not thinking about: me. I wish it were one of the 75 Fridays we spent together doing whatever it was we wanted to do. I wish we were curled up on the couch, watching a moving, while the rain pours down outside. I wish we were laughing, and teasing each other. I wish I felt safe. I wish I didn't cry all of the time. I wish, I wish, I wish.

Today was another day without you.

I wonder what another day without me is like.

It's always the same

Every night. Every night I dream of you. Every morning I wake up around 5, drowning in your absence. EVERY NIGHT it's the same. It's exhausting. I have a headache. I have a heart ache. Everything aches. I incessantly check my email, as you once did, to see if by some miracle there's something from you. There never is but I keep on wishing. Hoping. It's a compulsion I can't stop. Damn this situation. Damn life. Damn everything that brought me here. Damn myself for taking this path. Damn, Damn, Damn.

Please go away

I'm tired of the dreams. I'm tired of waking up, the dark feeling of abandonment hovering over my head. I hate being left behind, forgotten, put away in a small recess of a self-denying heart.

I hate that I have to hate.