A Collision of Faults
I can't breathe.
I can't move.
I can't eat.
Mr. All Around cut out last night.
Perhaps it would not have been so bad if I hadn't been completely unaware what was going to happen.
When did it start going downhill? I'll tell you. A night with two friends in the spare room and a big decision.
That's when we stopped laughing at every second. That's when our conversation got turned down like the radio during an important telephone call.
That's when I started to get scared. All Around got quieter, so I got needier.
I would give anything to have those first two months back. When he read me as fervently as I could turn the pages.
I would kill to start over and return to laughing fits and belle isle afternoons and a cd for when I work too much. To never be anywhere near that last chapter.
He got to the end of the book.
I've been wondering around the house, every ounce of my being screaming to get out, to run, to go.
But there's no where.
The tears come and with it a rage like I have never felt. I hate myself for messing this up. I hate myself for smothering him.
and I hate myself for seeing this on the horizon, but continuing to make it worse.
This is nothing like last time. This is karma for the gaping wound I left in the Mad Scientist.
Last time I felt nothing. This time, I'm the fool.
I feel not good enough. I feel ugly and annoying and stupid and worthless.
The words flowing out of my fingers fall onto the keyboard with a limp. And it kills me to know that he is probably going about his day with a care in the world.
Why didn't he just fucking say something. Why couldn't he be honest with me until I lay barefoot in the grass screaming and hitting his chest.
He says he will take me to prom. He says he will take me to coffee every week. He says we'll be best friends.
I gave him everything and got dropped. I'm so afraid to trust him again. Because if he drops me again, I don't think I can piece myself back together.
And so here I sit.
Not breathing.
Not eating.
Not moving.
I should have been a pair of ragged claws.
I can't move.
I can't eat.
Mr. All Around cut out last night.
Perhaps it would not have been so bad if I hadn't been completely unaware what was going to happen.
When did it start going downhill? I'll tell you. A night with two friends in the spare room and a big decision.
That's when we stopped laughing at every second. That's when our conversation got turned down like the radio during an important telephone call.
That's when I started to get scared. All Around got quieter, so I got needier.
I would give anything to have those first two months back. When he read me as fervently as I could turn the pages.
I would kill to start over and return to laughing fits and belle isle afternoons and a cd for when I work too much. To never be anywhere near that last chapter.
He got to the end of the book.
I've been wondering around the house, every ounce of my being screaming to get out, to run, to go.
But there's no where.
The tears come and with it a rage like I have never felt. I hate myself for messing this up. I hate myself for smothering him.
and I hate myself for seeing this on the horizon, but continuing to make it worse.
This is nothing like last time. This is karma for the gaping wound I left in the Mad Scientist.
Last time I felt nothing. This time, I'm the fool.
I feel not good enough. I feel ugly and annoying and stupid and worthless.
The words flowing out of my fingers fall onto the keyboard with a limp. And it kills me to know that he is probably going about his day with a care in the world.
Why didn't he just fucking say something. Why couldn't he be honest with me until I lay barefoot in the grass screaming and hitting his chest.
He says he will take me to prom. He says he will take me to coffee every week. He says we'll be best friends.
I gave him everything and got dropped. I'm so afraid to trust him again. Because if he drops me again, I don't think I can piece myself back together.
And so here I sit.
Not breathing.
Not eating.
Not moving.
I should have been a pair of ragged claws.
posted by Amazing at 3:56 PM
1 Comments:
I find myself wishing that with everything I do I could perpetually be starting over again.
And, well, though you've probably gotten over it now, Mr. Allaround will always be Mr. Allaround, and never Mr. Allrighthere.
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