I go through these weird phases of encouragement. I cheer my decisions on and confidently tell myself it’s all going to work out. I wonder when I became satisfied with being unhappy. Was it something so long ago, that shaped my acceptance of less than? Less than anything remotely connected to my idea of joy. Regardless, accepting is what I do. “Oh, paycheck short! That’s fine I don’t care to eat everyday.” I never really accepted failure and now it seems like the expected outcome, fail.
This love thing has really got ahold of me.
Not much matters if I’m not mattering to her. Typing that sentence made me feel pathetic. Yet, it’s the only sentence that makes any sense. Torturous our growing and secure friendship. As it builds, I find myself standing crippled and accepting. Her head on my shoulders as we loosely hug goodbye. I remember when we used to make out for all my neighbors to see.. Today, while talking to a co-worker I scrolled through my pictures and smiled at the memories that accompanied them. I felt invoked to share my gleeful position with her, “thanks” she says. Why am I the only one that cares about it? She said, I was too important to not be in her life.
I’m left unsatisfied. Smiling like a fool, at the photos that show us laughing and carrying on. I would typically send the photo to her so she could share in my joy, but that typically results in a party of one.
I tried to talk to her about it today. Share an intellectual conversation, about love and the lack of logic. Though the conversation had depth, the words “I love him” bounce off my consciousness and numbed my soul. I thought to myself. “Don’t fall apart!” Tears filled my eyes and I choked on every word that could come to mind. “Yea I hear you.” I replied.
I did hear her. I always hear her, and I never care to change my reaction. On days like this, I find myself questioning my own confidence…feeling rather less than. It never softens, her approach, blunt and honest truth. Always. I need it. Maybe one time I’ll ask and accept the answer and move on. Painful. It’s all very painful as I work a job that I hate, and is less than. Live a life that I did not choose and love someone that doesn’t love me back. She never changes. Well, she changed from the words written on my wall of love and joy to…not at all.
She has poisoned my entire existence. And I embellish the devastation. I noticed that when I look at her, her face looks different to me, I can’t smell her anymore. I am far too afraid to touch her. We hug with loose arms and I wonder for how long. She drops arms as I am still clinched around her. What do I do now? Why is it so easy to tell me, that she loves someone else and in that same breathe exclaim, “I’m not going to push you away, fuck that.”
What gives her the audacity? Me. I allow it. I don’t know what to do without it. At some point I made her my entire life, and during that time she gathered a much better sense of her love for another. I’m so incredibly sad and disappointed with my behavior.
I’ve continued to lose focus and now I can’t begin to find it. I wish I had some good news to displace the bad, but I’m trying not to fall apart.