I woke up this morning, and read six pages filled with love and hurt. and sorrow.
Of lost things. Of forever that will never come. Of pain and emptiness. Caused by me.
I've tried so exhaustively to live in a way that leaves no shadows over anyone. I've always tried to absorb everything rough and uninhabitable. Adapted myself to the wants of others. I've twisted my insides to breaking point endless times. Repression stopped being repression as far as I could tell, as I could no longer see where I was. Where this girl I had created ended and the one hiding inside me began. The people who know me are rare. I never allow it to happen on purpose. But the magic in them gets past my defences.
My defences,...Hahh...useless. All that means is that those who hurt me do not know about it - not that I do not get hurt. I'm one hell of a deceptive monkey. Love? Love was made to be hidden wasn't it? To be felt aching one sidedly through ones own veins. I never really believed he could love me, as I was not myself. And maybe that made me feel more secure where I stood. holding everything at a distance. I wanted to believe my heart could be empty. That I could live that way.
How could I explain that? in these years we've had he's helped me build back up to a point where I have become myself. Something I should have done alone. After the lunatic scooped out my insides and left just an empty pit of blackness. No love should be built on such foundations. Isn't the caving in inevitable? Wasn't this foreseeable?
Before the lunatic, I had a love where I was so much myself I was terrified of losing it. Because it freed what was in me to such an extent I lost myself to him. I saw myself swinging on a porch at 90 sat next to him. I let myself believe in it. I was childish at 20. I was used to expecting to lose what mattered most to me. Everyone left. And as far as I saw life, I made them leave. It was only a matter of time.I believed I was the reason my Dad left when I was a child. That was the kind of ridiculous idea I was still basing my adult life on.
I was too much. And yet not enough.
And so I lost him. It was a self fulfilling prophecy. We stayed friends. But I saw the apparent error in my ways. It tore me apart. But I didn't let him know. I can't stand the thought of being the cause of that feeling in another human being. Of knowing I'm standing with their heart in my hands, having ripped it out. I tried. I wanted so much to be able to fix it all. To save it. But not for myself. For him. Why must I fall in love with dreams. There is no space in my heart. After nearly 5 years trying to believe this was everything we said it was..I cannot let the right one in.
It's awful. I'm a monster. my deceptive heart...
I've lived on edge. reigning myself in, to a point I thought acceptable to you.
I didn't know how not to. I felt in my bones that I must, that you needed me to.
But I grew tired of being the one always making the journey to your side of the universe.
Weren't we just the wrong people for each other ?
Do you realise I will never grow up inside?
That I will always be such a dreamer.
I will always make a mess, and when you laugh at me
for crying at stupid things, it will always hurt me a little bit.
Thinking that to you, I am a little foolish.
It is almost as though, I cannot accept myself- as I see me through your eyes.
I will never be capable of fitting within the confines that you set.
This distance grew in the cracks between us. Not out of thin air, or circumstance.
You must see, I am not an enigma.
I'm just a girl.
I do not deserve you.
And perhaps I lack the intent to, but
I do not know how to.