The Dust of Desperation

I don’t care if you’re worse off mentally more than I am, I don’t care what type of demons seep into your being when you’re alone at night. I gave you everything. I wanted to be that wall keeping those demons away. We all have demons but yours are suppressed by your stubborn brovado. I’m not saying I understand you. Nobody understands anyone, that’s just kind of a magical source of hope. We all want to find someone who understands them, the search is what keeps us going. Even if I can’t understand him I wish I could understand what else someone wants. Happiness? I’m always nice even when I’m at my lowest, hovering the blade over my wrist hoping for the courage to press down, I can’t show it. I can’t express that. I want to seem pure to you. I want to be that optimistic innocent selfish smiling soul you layed eyes on that cold January afternoon. I want you to want me even if I’ve changed. I wish you could look in my eyes and realize the confusing agony you so deliciously put me through. I crave the pain I get when I hold back my emotions from you. I know you see my scars all over. I don’t know if its denial, embarrassment, selfishness, or you just can’t bring yourself to break down your own wall. Force yourself to let my emotions in and yours peek through. Its tragic how much I like you honestly. Hopeless and wonderful and paralyzing and pathetic. But that’s what I keep coming back for. For me, you represent everything I was, am, and hope to become. you’re every component of humanity I hate love loath desire… I just wish you knew. Then again I don’t. When I’m sitting alone in a starbucks in 10 years, when I’m laying alone in bed after my kids have grown, after my husband has passed and I lay there, as I do now, pondering idealistic alternative lives, will I think of you ? Even if I lay there thinking about my own, will I think of you? Will you be dust on the bookshelf of stories that are my life? Still ever present, waiting to be wiped away so easly by a passing thought. Not major enough to stick but always there, floating around waiting to be brought up. I don’t know why you’ve impacted me so much. I hate how much I like you I hate it its tearing me apart. But yet you’re the only thing keeping me together. The way you sigh when we hug is the only thing keeping me from pressing that blade down. I wish you weren’t. I hate how impressionable you are and how my brain gravitates around you and all you are. I want you to leave but that would make it so easy. I want you to need me. You never will and I haven’t realized that yet. I don’t want to imagine a life where I can’t picture the curves of your face and the way your hair falls when its long. The way you don’t listen to me yet get so lost in your own stories. you’re selfish and horrible and I love it. Ignore me like I ignore myself. Use me. Because those moments you text me, the moments we’re together are what keep me sane. Knowing for at least a second, your brain is coated with the thought of me. Maybe one day when we are both lonely and abysmal, we’ll think of eachother. Ill finally be a thought in your brain again. Maybe ill be dust in your bookshelf. Your stories long and plentiful of journeys you take that will have nothing to do with me. I just hope after those books close, and you’re on to a new chapter, I hope the dust of me unsettles. Something makes you think of me. How I giggle too much or how I like jelly beans and potato salad. I’m not sure how long the story of you and me continue. I hope its long at vibrant and gives you all the feelings its given me. But if it ends as soon as I feel, such is life. Such is love.


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