(no subject)
hands aflutter, heart skipping around chaotically, messing up my hair methodically, over and over as i wait impatiently for you to answer the door, so i can get my things, so i can avoid eye contact and proclaim apathy repetitively. but you weren't there, or you weren't answering and i was almost relieved as I walked quickly away and sped out of the parking lot. i am not strong enough to be with you but i am not strong enough to walk away. i say I can't fall in love, not with you, not with the loving, wonderful baggage you tote around. i don't remember what love should feel like anymore, i just keep insisting that it's not something i'm interested in.
i want to return to missouri, wander languidly down the streets at 2 AM and feel painfully, excitingly alive again. but i want to stay. i want to prepare breakfast for the kids every morning and drive your wife to work and come home and make love to you. you're the only man i've ever made love to, and the heartbreaking experience of being a part of you, of you being a part of me, has left me debilitated. i can't look at things the way i used to, i can't feel happiness the way i used to. i want you, and your devilish blue eyes and your honest affection, but i want everything. i don't know if i can settle for the leftover scraps, or if it wouldn't destroy me to continue to deny that i am capable of love, that i am in love with you and it's wearing me down rapidly because despite your flawless arrangement and your wife and kids adoration of me, i continually feel the cruel desires of selfish love. i want to be her, the one you love.
i want to return to missouri, wander languidly down the streets at 2 AM and feel painfully, excitingly alive again. but i want to stay. i want to prepare breakfast for the kids every morning and drive your wife to work and come home and make love to you. you're the only man i've ever made love to, and the heartbreaking experience of being a part of you, of you being a part of me, has left me debilitated. i can't look at things the way i used to, i can't feel happiness the way i used to. i want you, and your devilish blue eyes and your honest affection, but i want everything. i don't know if i can settle for the leftover scraps, or if it wouldn't destroy me to continue to deny that i am capable of love, that i am in love with you and it's wearing me down rapidly because despite your flawless arrangement and your wife and kids adoration of me, i continually feel the cruel desires of selfish love. i want to be her, the one you love.