I’m leaving again. I can’t get enough of her really, but I’m not allowed to have her. Realizing this was a long time coming and I think deep down I knew. I just preferred to pretend that I was just confused. I’m so deeply ashamed by this, truly I don’t know where to go from here.
So I’m leaving again. I wish it didn’t have to be this way, because being without her feels like I’m missing. It isn’t until I see her again that I remember how to breathe. When I see her smile, its like I’m a newborn, spanked inorder to get me to inhale the oxygen that has to pump through me to keep me going.
I need her, all of her, more of her than she has to give. Realistically I can survive with the minimal interaction and annual greetings, maybe eventually I’ll learn to live with it. Selfishly though, I’d rather have none of her than have just a fraction. Stupidly enough, I feel like my seams are torn and my stomach is growling for a craving that I cannot satiate.
Still I’m tired of sitting and looking stupid for someone that doesn’t look for me at all really. She’s not a bad person, just a forgetful one. She forgets me too easily, and its humiliating how desperate I am. It’s never on purpose- at least I don’t think it is. It’s more like she wanders away from me, out of the circle I’ve drawn for us in the sand. She muddles my boundaries, looking all over the place, meeting new people and learning new things. All the while I’m confined to the circle I’ve become accustom to, waiting for her to return and look at me again.
I’ve always been patient, sitting and waiting for her to look at me and say, “Oh there you are! I’ve found something you might like, come here,” and she’d grab me by the hand and guide me. It’s a stupid fantasy, I know, but isn’t it all just metaphorical? Still, she never does turn around.
So I’ve decided that I will no longer wait for her to look for me. I’ve dug my head into the sand, left the circle, who knows? The point is, I won’t be there anymore. If she ever does turn around and hope to see me, she will be met with nothing.
Admittedly, I know myself. I am so weak when it comes to her. She is the softest of all my spots, the bruise I will always poke and pray it stays, the tooth I can never pull no matter the ache. I want her to need me but she never has to want, she already has me. Probably before I myself knew she did. She had always been the one thing I was sure about.
I know I need her, for my sanity, for my peace, for my hope that someday I will be okay. I’m not sure why I put all this on her, I think maybe its because she understands me in a very silent way that no one else ever took the chance to try to understand. The second she started to fade from view, it didn’t feel like something was missing, but like I myself was no longer there. It’s disgusting, my desire really.
I only recently understood all this myself. How I didn’t see it sooner? I have no clue. Maybe I should’ve known when I pictured us in a house we’d buy together, filled with eclectic decor I would find at antique shops- ones that she’d tell me we didn’t really need but she’d always cave and let me bring them home, and we’d find ourselves in harmless arguments about the chores. Maybe it was obvious when I no longer had anyone I wanted to marry, but I still wanted to fantasize about it, so she’d be my stand in. Maybe there’s a million obvious warning signs that flashed before I fell into this bottomless pit I find myself in now.
All this being said, nothing will be done about my dilemma and I will continue to wallow like the little loser I am! Wish me the best of luck, pray she doesn’t confront me, she knows where I live after all…
Strangers Days 