You

Are driving me crazy.

Look! Think! Listen!

You

I saw you the other day. You asked me if I still loved you, and you said you felt like maybe I didn't. I thought to myself: I don't love you, not the way that I used to. I said nothing.

It changes all the time. Some days I feel nothing, some days I feel much too much. I can't make it stop, can't get off the roller coaster ride.

And worst of all, I'm dragging you along behind me, you with all your love for me, you with all the things you say and do that just piss me off sometimes, but you with all your love, you're not even in the roller car.

You're tied to the back and bumping along on the tracks behind me.

I need to make up my mind.

The Hurt

I sit and eat sour gum balls until the acid starts wearing down my tongue. Until it burns. Until it bleeds. And I keep doing it. Because I like it. It scares me that I'll keep doing something I think that I like long after it's obviously been hurting me.

Help

I haven't seen you in almost four years.
The other day, at university, in the hall, I turned a corner and thought I saw you standing there.
It wasn't you. But my heart stopped in my chest, like a lead weight dropping through my head and my spine and my toes, like a piece of a black hole, dropping through my feet to the center of the earth, passing through the other side, spiraling into the universe. Its wake was filled with a sudden tingling, a buzzing in my head that turned to a roar, a sudden feeling of now-ness. Now, now, now. All in the span of the second it took me to realize it wasn't really you. It took me hours to take my mind back from your memory.

What am I supposed to do? Can you tell me that? Why did you make me fall in love with you? Why did you change my life if you didn't want to be a part of it? Actively changed it. Went way the fuck out of your way, to change my life. And then walked out of it once I didn't know what to do without you. God damn you. God damn you. I love you so much, more than myself, more than anything. Nothing's ever meant that to me, not like you. What the hell am I supposed to do. You didn't know what you were doing to me.

Noone else makes me feel that way when they walk in a room (or even if I think they do). Not one person on earth. Not even close. And still, after all this time... help. Help me. I need something. Anything. It's been 10 years since I fell in love with you. I can do nothing to stop this. Don't think I'm holding on tight. I've been pushing it out the door, dumping it off at the station, tying it in a bag and throwing it in the river, over and over, year after year, and it keeps finding its way back to me. And I'm out of bags and I'm out of trains and I'm out of strength.

Desire versus Wisdom

I want to know you. I want to know you now as I glimpsed you then.
I think a sunrise the likes of which has never been seen would unfold, right there before my eyes.
I think I would witness a miracle with my bare eyes, and I wouldn't even go blind from it.

I think my love for you would be too overwhelming, if I ever did get the chance to tell you.
I think I wouldn't want to put you in that position. Wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable.
I think after all these years of cradling you in my heart, you must be standing on a pedestal in my head.
I don't know how it could be otherwise.
I think it wouldn't be fair to you, to know you now, knowing you're on that pedestal.
After everything you've done for me, and all the world you've meant to me as long as I can remember, I  don't think I could ever take you down enough for you to be human.
You don't deserve that, even if by some miracle you thought I deserved you.
I just wish there was some way to get this out of my chest.
It beats inside me like a quetzal in a tiny cage.

Without you... as I have been.

I am beyond despair. I feel an undying helplessness now.
Because you plague me still.
My heart never forgot you.
You'll be with me always.
In my thoughts
my prayers
my dreams.

And I never got to tell you how I feel.

Maybe the worst part is that I worry that you wouldn't even care enough to listen.

Maybe the worst part is that it doesn't make a difference either way.
The song remains the same.

How can I still miss you when it's been so many years?
How can I still love you?
I'll love you all my life.
I just wish I could look in your eyes and say so.
Just one chance.

It's these things

It's the things in our past that we never really got over,
never talked about
never got out
never let ourselves think about,
not really.
Maybe we don't feel like we deserve them
if we want them more than anything
Maybe we don't feel like we deserved them
if we'd give anything to be rid of them

Either way, it's these things that plague my dreams.

The hopes

May the fear you feel be like a kaleidoscope
May you see the colors refracted in your aversions
May you feel happiness in it

May the words, even if they sound all wrong, come out
May the time, even if it feels long, be taken
May this heart, even if it's not sure, be true

That Feeling in my Bones

You know how, when you love somebody…

You know how when you really, really love somebody

How it is that it hurts when they're gone, and you get by, and you deal with it, and if it's for a little while that they're away, it stops smarting quite so much, like it's not so fresh. And you're still sad, but okay, one day at a time, breathe. You'll get through.

And you know how it is when you see them again, and they're in your arms, and you maybe fold them tight to your chest, and you maybe bury your face in the crook of their neck and it's warm and suddenly you catch the way they smell and suddenly it all comes rushing back, fresher than it's ever been before. And you think… home… home… home. 

I've felt that way before, you know. I've felt that. So have you.

When they leave again, it's sharp, in your throat, in your lungs, in your chest. Like a knife. It's sharp. It's red hot and black and white. It's like a forest fire at night. And you're the deer, knowing it's going to burn but it won't leave. It's hard wired that way.

But when I left you at the terminal tonight, I was so scared. I gave you a hug that you could barely return, partly because you're afraid of me now, afraid because you gave me your heart and neither of us knows what I'm going to do with it from here, and partly because you're exhausted. 

When I left you there, I stood with my hood down in the pouring down rain, in the dark, and I watched you walk away through the revolving doors. Stepping further and further back as you got farther and farther away to keep you in my sight, till I couldn't see you anymore. Walked in the rain past those doors, watched through the window as you got in that line. Watched someone get behind you. Stared at the little glimpse of your red backpack past their arm. Stared at the rain washing down the terminal walls. Rain on my neck, not flinching. Rain on my lower back where my jacket had ridden up. I hate the feeling of the rain there, running down, shocking the senses with cold. Didn't move. Didn't really care. Couldn't see your backpack anymore. I stared around me, out of focus, waited a little more for good measure. Alone. Looked around, to see if anyone was seeing me, waiting, watching. For you. Wanting a stranger inside my world in a perversely chilly way. Feeling like if this was a movie, something would happen. Sparing myself a brief moment of self-loathing for wanting the attention, any attention, someone to give a fuck. The fat man inside the window kept reading his book. The young indie man outside kept smoking his cigarette, lost in space. No one noticed. This is no movie. Reality provides the anti-climax. Okay, it's time. Got back in my car and sat.

Remember that sharp feeling? That sharp, fresh, red-hot, forest fire feeling that you get when someone you love leaves? I didn't feel that at all. I felt nothing in my chest, in my lungs, in my throat.

The feeling I felt, it settled into my bones. Into the marrow, into the core. The dull ache. An ache that feels as old as time. No red, no white. Just blacks and grays. Like it was setting up a tent and building a fire and unrolling a sleeping bag. Like it was saying, "Hey. I'm going to be here for a while."

It's deep inside my bones, past the place in my eyes where the tears come from.

I need you too. I need you desperately. You feel like home to me too. You are my home. I do want a life with you. I'm so lost without you right now. And these are all the things I can't confirm to you because the timing is just all wrong, and I can't say those things to you now. It would only make your hurting worse, it would only make your confusion worse. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm confused. I love you.

I need you.

Why did it feel so final? I need to see you again. It's down in my bones and I can't shake it out.

Clinically Normal is for Obituaries

We're all a little bit crazy. Nobody could go visit a shrink and lay bare every nuance of their soul and come out of it diagnosed "normal." Some of us just hide it better than others.

Sometimes we get tired of trying to be normal, when nobody even knows what that is.

That's why I'm letting it all out, around you. I'm not trying to hide it anymore, I'm not trying to hide anything. It's bigger than you think.

I think I'm trying to see if I can drive you away. I think I'm testing you to see if my honest abnormalities are enough to scare you, to make you think I'm crazy, to make you want to leave.

I'm not sure if I'm doing it because I want you to leave or if it's because I want to make sure you're worth keeping.

Maybe I'm just doing it in the hopes that I'll find there is one person on earth who can accept me.

Oh, wow. That is quite terrifying.

Everything you are

You always pick the ones who you know are going to hurt you. Not because they're mean, or spiteful, or controlling... but just because they don't care. They don't really care about you one way or another. Sometimes they barely notice you. And then suddenly they're gone. You always pick those ones.

It's not because nobody else wants to be there.

I always thought you were just sabotaging yourself but then, I guess you can't pick who you love.

I wish you loved someone who thought you were special.

You're special.

The Simple Truth

I already know this. I already know.

You tell me, "I'm only telling you this because it took me twenty years to learn it. I just want to make it easier for you than it was for me. If you can just learn from my mistakes... but, if you can't, I understand."

I already know it's truth. I just can't act on it.

I can't get over what happened. In the ugly places inside of me I feel like you haven't suffered enough for the pain you caused me.

I love you. And I want to be with you in the long run. And yes, I do know that until I can make a leap of faith, decide to believe you, stop holding it against you, it will never work between us. I do know that if I never let it go I've as good as lost you already. I understand that concept. I'm not even really that angry about what happened anymore.

But I remember the pain, the suffering, the lies. I remember that feeling of wishing I was dead.

And I just don't feel like you've bled enough inside yet.

Like it shouldn't be that easy for what you did to just go away.

But I know it's not fair of me to keep pulling you close softly and then cutting you with that blade, over and over again. Acting like everything's okay and then pulling that on you when you least expect it.

I just can't forgive you yet. But I can't lose you either.

Maybe I'm the one who doesn't know how to love properly.

Atlas Trembled Violently

Yeah, I guess I do kind of want to. Which is weird because I've never thought of you that way before. I do want to. But you know? I really can't. It would break her heart because I know how she feels about you. I love her, and I'm not going to lie to her.

The thing that really bothers me about it is having to lie, having to tell you it's because I don't want to. I'm so sick of having to pretend I feel things I don't feel, and having to pretend that I don't feel things I do. I just want to feel how I feel. I'm so sick of lying about it, I'm so sick of smoothing things over, hiding, pretending. Why the fuck can't I just feel how I feel for once? And now that I finally want to, with someone, since I lost him, why did it have to be you, the one person I can't share that with?

I'm so tired of pretending.

But I'll do it, just this one more time.

I don't want to let her down.

Our Lessons

So, yeah. Maybe I'll have to modify my plans a little bit. Challenge my thoughts a little bit. Sing the verses a little louder, hold back a little on the chorus. I will do that so that I can keep you.

Because doing those things might not mean giving something up.

Doing those things might mean learning the lessons you were given to me so that I could learn.

Springtime.

Look at that blue sky above us. Breathe in the wind whipping through the streets, wrapping around telephone poles and tree trunks. You are alive. You are here, with me, in this very moment. Springtime is springing up all around us, reveling in the beauty of life. I revel in my love, for the sky, for the wind, for the earth beneath my feet. For you.

I revel in this newfound freedom. The journey awaits. My feet are tingling with readiness.

All of us together, let's go.

Time

Every breath you take, every move you make, is a brand new chance to set something beautiful in motion.

Did you ever stop and wonder

Did I just make a big mistake?

All the things I wish I could do

If I could take every thing that ever hurt you, is hurting you now, ever will hurt you, and put them in a bag, and walk that bag to the dump, feet blistering and raw, back aching, ankles creaking against the asphalt, I would rejoice in every miserable step. I would carry your pain every step of the way.

If I could gather every tear you've ever cried and have yet to cry, and maybe the tears you're crying at this moment, and put them in a big glass jar, I would carry that jar on my back everywhere I went, so you would never have to be sad again.

If I could bundle together every dream you ever dreamed that never came true, all the lost dreams that are causing you such pain, and all the dreams that ever will, and put them in my heart, I would grieve in your stead, as the waves crashed along the shoreline of an ocean in my head, so you would never feel hopeless again.

But, I can't.

Only you can do that.

Just know that I love you. And I'll be right beside you on this road.

The way you are

You, amid all of your bluster and your loud, screaming dreams.
You, taking on the world. Doing it by yourself. Larger than life. Proud. Ready.
You with your strength and your empowerment and your interesting life, cool friends.
You with your thoughts. You with your head. You with your heart.

You look so small in that big jacket you wear.
You look so small when you finally meet my gaze.
Suddenly so interested in the texture of the carpet.

Don't let anyone make you feel small.
Not even yourself.

Especially not yourself.

The Windows

What's wrong? I asked her.
You seem different today, I told her.
Why are you being this way? I demanded.
Why?

Nothing, she said. You just can't read my eyes anymore.

The Journey

You said: I'm going far away.

Baby, where are you going? Is it anywhere I can reach? Touch? See?

Or is it somewhere else?

The Eternal

Because in the face of infinity, the details, the who did whats... well, they just don't seem to matter so much anymore.

The Ultimatums

You say you don't think we can be friends unless we talk about it.

But I don't think we can be friends unless we don't.

Because if I talk about it I will remember that I should never forgive you.

And I don't want to let you go, not all the way.

Not yet.

The Raging Quiet

I didn't know you meant it, you said. I didn't know you meant you would try to be friends. That means a lot to me, that counts for a lot.

I, you said. You stopped. You sobbed. Just tell me that you love me, if you mean it. Just tell me that, you said.

I told you: that's not fair.

Then don't, you whispered.

And the line went dead.

Too Loud To Speak

Because despite how angry and hurt I am I cannot help but care about you and I know that a little caring is worth more than all the anger and hurt in the world. You said you needed a friend right now and I came despite how broken I am and you just want to fight. I'm not trying to fight. I was trying to be brave and do what I felt was right. I feel a fool.

The Rollercoaster

I wish I could wish you well all the time. I wish I was so conscious, all the time. But it's a roller coaster. And I don't know how I'll feel in the morning.

The least you could do

Look, if you can't open up a window, can you at least close the door?

I'll Tell You A Secret, If You Promise You Won't Tell

Sometimes, when I'm up late at night and the silence is ringing in my head, and the emptiness in my bed is almost too much to bear, I miss you so much.

The List You Swallowed

You called me. I let it go to voicemail, again. You said "I just want to see you." You said "I feel like all the love I've felt for you, shown and unshown, now means nothing to you." You said "I just need to know that you recognize how much I love you." You said "I want to give you space to be angry and to feel betrayed. I want to see you and to just listen to your feelings without giving any justifications for my actions, this time." The thing is, is that you already said all those justifications. And you meant them. You're sorry I'm hurt but you're not sorry for what you did. You're just biting your tongue, hoping it'll make everything okay again.

The List of Priorities

Such a concern, money. Money, to go to a fancy dinner. To shop at the mall. To buy me clothes, coffee, jewelry. To go see a movie.

But at the end of the day, I don't really remember the dinner. I can hardly remember what the movie was about. I don't think about the new dress before I fall asleep.

When I close my eyes, I'll tell you what I can remember in vivid detail:

I can remember making love to you. I remember the soft smile on your lips. I remember kissing the sweat from your forehead. I remember the cool breeze drifting through the window. I remember you reminiscing about warm summer nights, when you would lay on your back and watch the stars, gazing out into the night sky. I remember how you sat on the edge of your bed smoking a cigarette and how I laid naked beside you, never a moment ashamed. I remember how our skin stuck together slightly where it touched. I remember the warm arm you wrapped around me and our legs, intertwined. I remember the way your skin glowed, all soft blues and purples and shadows in the moonlight. I remember the whispered I love yous. The sound of your breathing and your heartbeat. The love so strong inside of me that I could barely breathe. As if it would burst out of my skin because it was so impossible to contain. The thoughts of love racing through my mind, and the way your breath would hitch when a particularly soul-baring thought entered my head, as if you knew what I was thinking. As if you were thinking similar thoughts. As if we were both astonished at what we heard in each other's hearts. As if we both just knew we could hear it, knew we were really hearing it, and it wasn't just in our heads.

I don't really remember much of the dinner and the gifts.

But that, I can remember in such detail.

It didn't cost you a dime.

Remember that.

Do Me A Favor

Please, just... be a little less nice to me or something. I can't handle it, not again.

That Thing You Do

Look. You know that thing you do? That thing with the eyes and the smile where you make me fall completely in love with you without even having to try? You can't keep doing that.

The Things I've Forgotten

When I try to be with somebody else, it just doesn't work. In my heart.
Because they call me baby, and they hold me.
And they smile, and they kiss me.
And all I can think of is you.
And how they're not you.
And how you're my one and my only.
And how you're my baby.
My beautiful boy, my beloved man, who I love more than anything else.
And every kiss and every touch that isn't from you,
just burns my skin and makes the pain of missing you even worse.

And I'm starting to forget your face...

It's Killing Me

You, I'm losing it. I dont know what to do without you anymore.
I was just struggling day to day to get by, thinking "Okay, it'll get easier..."
It's not getting easier.
I dont know when this horrible pain is going to stop.
i just dont know you i cant keep living like this it hurts so bad.
its killing me
baby its killing me
i dont know what to do
i hurt so bad all the time
i cant stop these stupid fucking tears
i need you
i need you
i need

im losing it

Dear You,

Dear you,

Thank you for all the nights when I fall asleep in your arms with your eyelashes soft on my cheek or your heart beating in my ear, when I know I'm safe from all my demons, at least for a little while.

Thank you for all the mornings when I wake to see your face and feel your skin against mine, when your eyes blink open and the sleepy haze clears, when recognition flashes across your features and you smile a sleepy smile and kiss me with chapped lips that soon become soft.

Thank you for all the afternoons when you walk the streets with me linking our fingers together, talking about everything and nothing when it hardly matters what's being said as long as my soul can drink in the music that is your voice.

Thank you for all the evenings when we come home late and fall onto the couch, when you lay across me pressing your face to my chest and sighing in relief as if you've been waiting all day to hold me, when I can trace circles and lazy “I love you”s across your back that you will never be able to read but that I can feel burned into your skin on all those nights when I fall asleep in your arms, with your eyelashes soft on my cheek or your heart beating in my ear, when I know I'm safe from all my demons. At least for a little while.

-Me

Because of these things.

Because the first thing you do when you walk in the door is say something judgemental.
(HOW many hours have you been on the computer? No, today. How many?)
(I just finished going to the gym. cleaning the kitchen. Folding your laundry. Writing a song.)
Because I ask how your night was and you ignore me.
Because you're drunk.
Because your snap judgements and lack of a greeting remind me how easily you forget that I am precious to you (you say, occasionally).
Because I can tell that you're not having as good of a time with me as you were at the party you went to without me.
Because I can tell that you blame me for this, for coming home.
Because I know that subconsciously, you tried to upset me when you walked in the door
   So that the atmosphere would turn a little colder
   So that my responses to your questions would be a little shorter
   So that you could feel like I bring down your good mood
      and that it's my fault.
   So that you could take off your clothes and climb into bed, across the room, without saying another word.

What I don't know, is why.

The Weak Moment

Can't I just go to you right now? Can't we just cry and hold each other and say I'm sorry and say I love you and say let's just go back to the way it was. Can't we just do that. Just for now. Just for an hour. A minute. A moment. Can't we just...

Right Now

Baby, baby my heart's breaking...

And in the splinters in between the boards, in those moments, albeit brief, an ocean crashes down on me. In the weakness in between strength. In the darkness in between awake and asleep. I hear your voice. I remember through the numbness.

Baby, my heart's breaking too

But you're used to having to be the strong one

So this is the last way I will get to say I love you.

Even if to you it feels like a door, locked and bolted shut. Don't you see? It has to be.

It Wasn't An Accident

Do you remember that night? You were having a house-warming party, and I didn't really know you all that well but I knew that I wanted to. And I was too nervous to talk to you so I just skirted you all night and drank a lot of wine. I didn't trust what I would say. I already wasn't trusting how I felt. I told your mom you were amazing when she stopped by. I told her how proud of you she must be.

It got late. I was tired. I'd been downstairs in your room with most of the party. I walked across the room and crawled into your bed and fell asleep. You woke me hours later. You thought I'd just been too drunk and gone to the first available spot to sleep. I was just being passive aggressive. I wanted to talk to you so bad, but I didn't want you to know. I just figured if I was sleeping there, you would at least have to talk to me long enough to ask me to move. But you didn't. We didn't leave that bed for a week. We talked, we smiled, we laughed, we couldn't believe our hearts. People kept coming down for us but not us, we wouldn't move. Would that I never forget that magic like that exists. I pray I don't forget those lessons.

I still don't know how to say it

I'm sorry.

There, that wasn't very hard.

We let each other down. And it's been so hard to focus on the slowness of the way I let you down, after the sharpness of your betrayal. It's been hard to think about. It requires letting go.

But, you know, for my part, I really am sorry. I never wanted it to be this way.

Angel Feathers

I remember when I first met you. The first week I moved in, sleeping in your bed, waking up to your eyes, sometimes green, sometimes brown, always breathtaking to me. I was always finding little white feathers in that bed. They must have been from the comforter. But when I asked you about them one day, you grinned at me and said "They're from my wings."

I know you were just being silly.

But I believed you.

I still do, in a way.

I wonder when you forgot how to make them work.

I was hoping you could teach me.

But I guess, you were hoping the same thing. So maybe we both let each other down.

Nice

You didn't talk to me for a year. You saw my new pictures up on Facebook. You saw he and I broke up. You want to "take me out for the night, get away from reality, escape." You want me in your bed. What you don't understand is that you and I, we are different. I don't want to escape reality. I want to sit down next to it and wipe its tears away and tell it that even though it hurts, someday, someday it will be okay. Someday, we will stop hurting.

I want to do the same for him. I know at this moment he is cradling the last text message he received from this phone, and he is laying in that bed where we made love and looked into each others eyes and laughed through our disbelieving tears, and he is crying his heart out. I want to wipe away his tears. I want to drive the mile between us (he has no idea how close we really are at this moment in time) and I want to wipe away his tears and kiss his pain-stained forehead, hold him in my arms, tell him someday he will fly away from all of this. But it would just make it worse.

Eventually, Yes

You're wonderful, and smart and talented and funny and I think that I like your smile. But I'm not ready. Not yet.

Wanting To Be Right

It's so strange, the moment you realize the warm, warm home you shared has become a house. The magic has become plaster and tile. The words I love you lay on a couch in your heart and read old letters and cry soundlessly, but when the one you used to say them to says them with tears pouring down, they won't let you let them out. Because it wouldn't do any good now. Because you're not judgmental and you try to see the shades between black and white but you can't help but feel that that person, just doesn't deserve them.

Not anymore.

But you grieve for the words all the same, because you never wanted to be right about anything more badly than you wanted to be right about them.

The Words You Couldn't Hear

You always thought I wanted to go back to him. You always thought maybe I was, behind your back. His ghost always lingered in our room, but it was living in your closet, not mine. And when my heart hit the floor, and I ran ran ran out of our home, now a house, he called me. He said, "I saw you broke up with what's-his-face. Are you okay?" He said, "What are your days off?" He said, "I miss you, beautiful." And you know what? Even then, I turned him away. Because it was always you, and you could never, ever believe it.

Yes, But...

I know it's really hard for you when I didn't say it back. I mean before you were just throwing it out over and over again and not pausing for a response but this last time, your voice broke and you said I love you. And I just sat there on the other end not saying anything. Because my response to that is irrelevant now, and you really hurt me. I'm not able or willing to say it back to you. That's where I'm at. And if that hurts you then maybe you should have thought of that before you lied to me.

You Just Have To Open Up A Window

We won't ever be together like we were, not ever again. And I meant it when I said that I didn't tell you that to hurt you. If that was a side effect than that's just how it had to be. That's the truth. I won't ever be able to trust you enough to give you my heart again. Because even if I did every time you told me you were going to be somewhere or doing something, I wouldn't believe you. I'd be making up all kinds of girls and situations in my head. It would be torture, and I would take it out on you, and it would just never work. You think this is so easy for me. It's not. I was stupid. I fucking had baby names picked out. I did. I picked out names and I sat there and typed them out and looked at them and thought about which one, which one, for someday. And it all blew up in my face. But I will never have your child now. I will never watch those tears on your face when you hold your child for the first time. I will never share that joy with you. I will never be your wife. We will never build a life and a family and a home together now. I may be able to forgive, and even try to forget, but I will never be able to make it so what's happened never happened. It's so hard for me to trust. It's so hard to open up my heart. And maybe you didn't see it but I never really opened it up in some of the ways I did with you. So the betrayal was the greatest I have ever known. And I will never go there with you again, even if I do manage to forgive you, which I'm sure I will because I've never been good at holding grudges. I should go delete that list of baby names, now that I remembered about it. Clear out the attic. A fresh start. Open up a window.