I said I was disaster
Not to be trite or romantic, but because it's true.
I am cold and broken. Sometimes I think beyond repair. Sometimes I think with time, like all things... Sometimes I think I will eventually settle for not ever feeling too much.
Mainly I just think too much.
Now I hurt you. You who gave without reserve. Who held me, who loved me. Who made my lunch and left me notes. Who looked at me. Who fucking took care of me better than any person ever has. And all I could do is say that I'm disaster. Then prove it.
Aw fuck. I'm sick. I looked at her pictures in my drawer. Thought that maybe I could feel sad and disappointed. As lost now as you feel. As I felt when I was hurt again and again. But I couldn't even tap into those emotions. Just numb. The only feeling I have is the lack of it.
I see my life so clearly right now. I see myself getting up each day. Working until I'm exhausted. Coming home and spending my evenings and nights with my dog. Working on weekends. Watch life through my work and try not to live too much. Work is the only thing moving me right now. Feel like my life is a teeter totter that I try to move alone. One side is always off balance.
And I'll clean my house. Read my mail. Start running again. Find all the distractions that I knew so well the last time I was close with alone. They say I need counseling. I need help to be whole. That implies whole exists. I have seen people in counseling who still don't know that they are touching an elephant. I haven't met anyone in 32 years who knows more than the trunk or the tail.
I used to tell Anna L. that content leads to stagnation. That was my justification for always leaving. Then I felt content and was left. So what is the lesson? Why haven't I learned anything in some twelve years of fucking, fighting, crying, loving, porch talking, lying, laughing? Why do I feel only that I've seen it all played out before.
I don't make any sense.
I am cold and broken. Sometimes I think beyond repair. Sometimes I think with time, like all things... Sometimes I think I will eventually settle for not ever feeling too much.
Mainly I just think too much.
Now I hurt you. You who gave without reserve. Who held me, who loved me. Who made my lunch and left me notes. Who looked at me. Who fucking took care of me better than any person ever has. And all I could do is say that I'm disaster. Then prove it.
Aw fuck. I'm sick. I looked at her pictures in my drawer. Thought that maybe I could feel sad and disappointed. As lost now as you feel. As I felt when I was hurt again and again. But I couldn't even tap into those emotions. Just numb. The only feeling I have is the lack of it.
I see my life so clearly right now. I see myself getting up each day. Working until I'm exhausted. Coming home and spending my evenings and nights with my dog. Working on weekends. Watch life through my work and try not to live too much. Work is the only thing moving me right now. Feel like my life is a teeter totter that I try to move alone. One side is always off balance.
And I'll clean my house. Read my mail. Start running again. Find all the distractions that I knew so well the last time I was close with alone. They say I need counseling. I need help to be whole. That implies whole exists. I have seen people in counseling who still don't know that they are touching an elephant. I haven't met anyone in 32 years who knows more than the trunk or the tail.
I used to tell Anna L. that content leads to stagnation. That was my justification for always leaving. Then I felt content and was left. So what is the lesson? Why haven't I learned anything in some twelve years of fucking, fighting, crying, loving, porch talking, lying, laughing? Why do I feel only that I've seen it all played out before.
I don't make any sense.