ah...*sniffles*
I hate it. I hate all of it. I hate him leaving---me leaving. Her leaving, us leaving, you, they,…everyone. I hate it because it hurts so much. I feel like I have lost so much. That something has been taken away from me and never returned. And I fear---I fear that he will leave and never come back. And I will be alone. I don’t want to be alone. For as much as I have always said that I could make it on my own---I’m such a fucking liar. I need him. I need him to make me---me. I cannot survive without people. I like to think that I can make it on my own but I know that I can’t. Times like these make me know that I can’t. Because I’m weak. I gather my strength from others. And he’s gone. And I was gone. And the tears came early before. Where were they now??? Oh but here they are. After the fact. While reminiscing, reading---trying to put the image of him ;leaving from your mind…. Trying desperately not to worry that somewhere something awful has happened and sooner than later you will get that tragic phone call you have been dreading your entire life. And I will not know what to do. And I am alone. Always seeming alone. Yet never truly alone.
Always alone---inside my head. Oh the things that I conjure in my head. The images… the words…. The memories warped and twisted. Or kept pure. Which ever end result would torture me more. And I feed off of these people that I claim to love. Do they know that I do this? Do they care? Should I care? I obviously do if I am second guessing myself. But then why can’t I ever seem to change? And this pillow offers no comfort… this soft simple pillow that does nothing for me but smells like him. So I clutch to it in the only way that I know how---to try and abate the pain that I feel from the fear of him leaving and never coming back.
So insecure. So insane. So not as strong as I used to think I would be… or was. Or would like to think that I was. Or am. Or would be---whatever. I don’t know what to do about these things---feelings anymore. They drive me bonkers---this fear of loss. And I cannot escape it. I have tried to out run it and it is always omnipresent. Always looming and making me see the dark side to it all. And then he is gone. Just like that. Into the car packed up and driving away as the sun is hanging in the sky letting the shadows fall in just the right places--- watching as he turns around… as he stares at me. Knowing in my heart and in his that he doesn’t want to be leaving---that we both just want to go---just go somewhere and be together. Not having to worry about leaving or being apart from each other ever again.
And curse Dave Eggers… for striking a cord in me… for breaking my heart… for his total staggering genius.
And to be apart from her… from everyone. For beating myself up about how much of a bad friend I am--- looking for attention, again. So starved…. Always craving it. And getting it. Infatuated with it. Needing it but not knowing why. Thinking about how this leaving---this parting---I just want to die. It would be so much easier to deal with than the constant heartbreak and reminders everywhere… The love---the absolute and astonishingly heartbreaking and warming love. And yet it does kill me. Each time a little bit. A little bit more than the time before. The images. So many in my head.
Sitting in a car… standing in a room… lying in a loft… crying in a restaurant… begging and pleading with myself not to go. And then looking into his eyes and seeing the same pain reflected… a perfect mirror of my expression---my immaculate pained expression, right there on his face. And the expression kills me as mine does him. And the love…. The waste…. The hurt… pain. The utter and complete agony of love. And again the looks. The pain.. This time a dorm room with softer light and a pleading look, and a touch, and a glance and then gone… like everything else - - - GONE. And yet, here once more out in the light of day… standing by a car saying another “‘bye” as the tears will come…as they surely and always do…and roll one by one down my cheeks trying to be repressed… welling up in my eyes… until the blurry vision is no longer blurry and I angrily brush away the first tears---mad that I am showing so much emotion---we will see each other again (won’t we? Says a pathetic voice)--- but inevitably more tears come and there is no stopping them. The tissues come next and the haphazard nose blowing. And over what? The embodied image of a perfect love driving away, again leaving me alone, to myself and to my images-fears.
Oh how I need him---it scares me that I should need any one person so much---but I know that I do, I do, I feed off people… Evan, Andy, Sarrah, Emily, KT, Ben, Barb, Brittany, Kimmie, James… All these people I take from them and give nothing back. And then the hurt comes from the separation. And he is gone. Just like that… nothing more than a voice on the phone again… a phantom in my house… my room… my head…
Gone like forever. Like there was never anyone here and it was all just a dream--a hope-a wish to be true… that all along I have been fooling myself once more and that this person does not exist to love me to care about me and I am again entirely alone in the agony of love. GONE LIKE FOREVER. Like it never was. Like there will never be anything more again. More tears and snot blowing and wiping away tears---and glancing at the ring… the ring that makes it real. And a picture. And a t-shirt. And feeling that last hug again and again--- in a parking lot, by a car, in a room, wherever- just feeling it and seeing those eyes as they look down at me and knowing that Yes (!) for once in my life- You, yes you (me) are loved by someone who you think you could never be worthy enough of to love back (and yet in the craziness you do, and he accepts it, just as it is, just like that) and know that this “’bye” is not for good but just until that 5 and a half weeks are over and can be together again.
But the waiting is so painful-deathlike. Just let me sleep and dream of him. Let me keep this pillow that smells of him and put on his t-shirt (that he says is mine because I stole it from him and wore it all the time but I still see as his because it feels better that way---knowing I am wearing something of his…to be a part of something he likes…loves) and that ring and just sleep to dream of him- only of him. And in that moment, that singular moment when all the world has stopped to acknowledge this perfection (if only for a nanosecond of perfection…it’s perfection nonetheless) of two people entirely and completely in awe and in love with one another. But it is only a dream for that real perfection is far away waiting (waiting you dismally hope because of the black recesses of your mind and how it works against you…well most of the time) to be rejoined with you because he knows that he loves no other but you and wants to only be with you---to make you happy---to make you smile---to make you laugh---to tickle you and make you beg him to stop---for that look in your eyes---and to make you smile again…only this time the “cute” smile as he calls it because he is the only person that just by touching your face can get you to gleam the way that he is waiting for you to---waiting for everything and so much more… because you both not only have your love, but for once you have a true grip on your life because he is there with you. And only with you.
Always alone---inside my head. Oh the things that I conjure in my head. The images… the words…. The memories warped and twisted. Or kept pure. Which ever end result would torture me more. And I feed off of these people that I claim to love. Do they know that I do this? Do they care? Should I care? I obviously do if I am second guessing myself. But then why can’t I ever seem to change? And this pillow offers no comfort… this soft simple pillow that does nothing for me but smells like him. So I clutch to it in the only way that I know how---to try and abate the pain that I feel from the fear of him leaving and never coming back.
So insecure. So insane. So not as strong as I used to think I would be… or was. Or would like to think that I was. Or am. Or would be---whatever. I don’t know what to do about these things---feelings anymore. They drive me bonkers---this fear of loss. And I cannot escape it. I have tried to out run it and it is always omnipresent. Always looming and making me see the dark side to it all. And then he is gone. Just like that. Into the car packed up and driving away as the sun is hanging in the sky letting the shadows fall in just the right places--- watching as he turns around… as he stares at me. Knowing in my heart and in his that he doesn’t want to be leaving---that we both just want to go---just go somewhere and be together. Not having to worry about leaving or being apart from each other ever again.
And curse Dave Eggers… for striking a cord in me… for breaking my heart… for his total staggering genius.
And to be apart from her… from everyone. For beating myself up about how much of a bad friend I am--- looking for attention, again. So starved…. Always craving it. And getting it. Infatuated with it. Needing it but not knowing why. Thinking about how this leaving---this parting---I just want to die. It would be so much easier to deal with than the constant heartbreak and reminders everywhere… The love---the absolute and astonishingly heartbreaking and warming love. And yet it does kill me. Each time a little bit. A little bit more than the time before. The images. So many in my head.
Sitting in a car… standing in a room… lying in a loft… crying in a restaurant… begging and pleading with myself not to go. And then looking into his eyes and seeing the same pain reflected… a perfect mirror of my expression---my immaculate pained expression, right there on his face. And the expression kills me as mine does him. And the love…. The waste…. The hurt… pain. The utter and complete agony of love. And again the looks. The pain.. This time a dorm room with softer light and a pleading look, and a touch, and a glance and then gone… like everything else - - - GONE. And yet, here once more out in the light of day… standing by a car saying another “‘bye” as the tears will come…as they surely and always do…and roll one by one down my cheeks trying to be repressed… welling up in my eyes… until the blurry vision is no longer blurry and I angrily brush away the first tears---mad that I am showing so much emotion---we will see each other again (won’t we? Says a pathetic voice)--- but inevitably more tears come and there is no stopping them. The tissues come next and the haphazard nose blowing. And over what? The embodied image of a perfect love driving away, again leaving me alone, to myself and to my images-fears.
Oh how I need him---it scares me that I should need any one person so much---but I know that I do, I do, I feed off people… Evan, Andy, Sarrah, Emily, KT, Ben, Barb, Brittany, Kimmie, James… All these people I take from them and give nothing back. And then the hurt comes from the separation. And he is gone. Just like that… nothing more than a voice on the phone again… a phantom in my house… my room… my head…
Gone like forever. Like there was never anyone here and it was all just a dream--a hope-a wish to be true… that all along I have been fooling myself once more and that this person does not exist to love me to care about me and I am again entirely alone in the agony of love. GONE LIKE FOREVER. Like it never was. Like there will never be anything more again. More tears and snot blowing and wiping away tears---and glancing at the ring… the ring that makes it real. And a picture. And a t-shirt. And feeling that last hug again and again--- in a parking lot, by a car, in a room, wherever- just feeling it and seeing those eyes as they look down at me and knowing that Yes (!) for once in my life- You, yes you (me) are loved by someone who you think you could never be worthy enough of to love back (and yet in the craziness you do, and he accepts it, just as it is, just like that) and know that this “’bye” is not for good but just until that 5 and a half weeks are over and can be together again.
But the waiting is so painful-deathlike. Just let me sleep and dream of him. Let me keep this pillow that smells of him and put on his t-shirt (that he says is mine because I stole it from him and wore it all the time but I still see as his because it feels better that way---knowing I am wearing something of his…to be a part of something he likes…loves) and that ring and just sleep to dream of him- only of him. And in that moment, that singular moment when all the world has stopped to acknowledge this perfection (if only for a nanosecond of perfection…it’s perfection nonetheless) of two people entirely and completely in awe and in love with one another. But it is only a dream for that real perfection is far away waiting (waiting you dismally hope because of the black recesses of your mind and how it works against you…well most of the time) to be rejoined with you because he knows that he loves no other but you and wants to only be with you---to make you happy---to make you smile---to make you laugh---to tickle you and make you beg him to stop---for that look in your eyes---and to make you smile again…only this time the “cute” smile as he calls it because he is the only person that just by touching your face can get you to gleam the way that he is waiting for you to---waiting for everything and so much more… because you both not only have your love, but for once you have a true grip on your life because he is there with you. And only with you.