Food for thought
After a rather disappointing evening, I am now more than ever counting down the days until my move to Charleston. I am also on the second day of my diet (lack of sugar/fat makes me highly irritable). Today Sara at work called Brian "California" since he had just returned from visiting his dad in San Francisco. For some reason it stuck and now it is his new code name. Well, anyway....whether or not California moves to Charleston or not is no longer an issue. As hard as it may be, and maybe even cruel to the other guys, I am going to make the strongest effort to not see him before I leave. As juvenile as it may sound, I just can't do it anymore. I can't keep putting myself through this emotional rollercoaster. He is obviously not ready for a relationship, not even ready for any type of emotional intimacy...so the strings must be severed in order to preserve both my humility and my heart. If he does indeed move to Charleston, good for him. I wish him the best. If I see him on the street, I will stop to say hello. But that is it. I simply cannot allow myself to be his emotional playtoy. I can't and won't (or at least will try my damndest). So I do what I do best in times like these...I write. So here is a sample of a poem I am working on.
Enjoy.
As opposed to popular belief, the man standing before you is simply a mirage of emotional stability
A manufactured shell of sarcasm and arrogant ramblings created to protect a man jaded and scarred by love
Broken by the harshness of romantic reality, he taught himself to form closely the layers of his womb
Allowing visitors was penciled into the curriculum as time wore thin the cords of his isolated heart.
With an insensitive remark or empty touch, you abruptly transform into an unwelcome tourist
This I now know, I have grown weary of his complex confusion and prepubescent mind games
Enjoy.
As opposed to popular belief, the man standing before you is simply a mirage of emotional stability
A manufactured shell of sarcasm and arrogant ramblings created to protect a man jaded and scarred by love
Broken by the harshness of romantic reality, he taught himself to form closely the layers of his womb
Allowing visitors was penciled into the curriculum as time wore thin the cords of his isolated heart.
With an insensitive remark or empty touch, you abruptly transform into an unwelcome tourist
This I now know, I have grown weary of his complex confusion and prepubescent mind games