It has been less than two days
So I’m in this place again.
A place where the screaming and the crying bleed together in harmonious tone. Somehow familiar, comforting, but infinitely harnessed to a feeling of dread. A place too dark to call home. A place too deep to dive. I didn’t want to dive, but it’s happened again. It’s happened and I don’t really know a way to stop it now. It’s a continuous drop leading down to the bitter end. And I desperately need someone. A desperation that disgusts me for being the person that I am--the person I’ve become over these years. It’s just a shame that no matter how much I need another, I can’t have one. Not really. Because I’d never let them in, and it wouldn’t be fair, not for the opposite. I would like to think it’s not my fault, but maybe it is. The fact that I can’t bring myself to trust another, that I never knew how to love. No one ever taught me. He did, but then he left. Left and left me questioning whether love was ever real to anyone, or maybe just a cover for the lonely to feel wholesome, to feel purpose.
All I ever want is for her to be happy, maybe crack a smile every once in awhile. But no, I come back thinking maybe it will be better, but nothing has changed. Nothing. The same feeling happens every time I walk into the room. The cloak of exhaustion and anxiety falls around my shoulders, and I accept it with an arch of my back. A feeling of defeat--too normal to resist. And the bottles will open once again, and the cycle of closed-mouths and broken egg shells will become the foundation to my day.
Three strangers living together to maintain an obligation, to uphold our end of the bargain for this thing we call family. This thing we call unconditional love that can be defined by a simple hello-goodbye sequence, where goodbye rolls off the tongue in expectancy of nothing more than the thud of a door slam and the start of a car engine. And I’ll watch the car drive away, and I won’t expect anyone to return.
A place where the screaming and the crying bleed together in harmonious tone. Somehow familiar, comforting, but infinitely harnessed to a feeling of dread. A place too dark to call home. A place too deep to dive. I didn’t want to dive, but it’s happened again. It’s happened and I don’t really know a way to stop it now. It’s a continuous drop leading down to the bitter end. And I desperately need someone. A desperation that disgusts me for being the person that I am--the person I’ve become over these years. It’s just a shame that no matter how much I need another, I can’t have one. Not really. Because I’d never let them in, and it wouldn’t be fair, not for the opposite. I would like to think it’s not my fault, but maybe it is. The fact that I can’t bring myself to trust another, that I never knew how to love. No one ever taught me. He did, but then he left. Left and left me questioning whether love was ever real to anyone, or maybe just a cover for the lonely to feel wholesome, to feel purpose.
All I ever want is for her to be happy, maybe crack a smile every once in awhile. But no, I come back thinking maybe it will be better, but nothing has changed. Nothing. The same feeling happens every time I walk into the room. The cloak of exhaustion and anxiety falls around my shoulders, and I accept it with an arch of my back. A feeling of defeat--too normal to resist. And the bottles will open once again, and the cycle of closed-mouths and broken egg shells will become the foundation to my day.
Three strangers living together to maintain an obligation, to uphold our end of the bargain for this thing we call family. This thing we call unconditional love that can be defined by a simple hello-goodbye sequence, where goodbye rolls off the tongue in expectancy of nothing more than the thud of a door slam and the start of a car engine. And I’ll watch the car drive away, and I won’t expect anyone to return.