There are things that I want to say and in my head they are clear and concise and come out properly. Outside of my head, they are muffled and unimportant and insist that I do not want to speak for fear that I may upset you. I like it when you are happy because that makes me happy too.
But my sole happiness cannot lie within you. It has to lie within me and then spread to you. Those are the rules of this game. I was startled by what I admitted this weekend and even though you are far away, you are always inside of me. How do you explain that to someone without chancing to overwhelm them? I have secrets that I want to share, but sometimes I don’t know how to begin or even where to start. Sometimes my secrets seem like bouncing balls – no distinct start or finish and going every where with the slightest touch, making them impossible to grab and hold onto. But perhaps that isn’t a bad thing.
But I trust you with my bouncing ball of secrets because thus far, you have shown that you are trustworthy.
Sometimes I have no idea how to say something. I am at odds with myself for wanting to say what it is that I have to say, and wanting to say that which is pleasing to your ears. Not that you incline me to be anything other than myself, but you have to understand that that alone is a new road that I have never traveled. It is almost defiantly that I want to cut open my chest and show you every nook and dusty cranny and say ‘you see! This is who
I really am!’ And turn my back to you so you have a chance to runaway and I don’t have to watch. I sometimes get frightened that I am in too far with nothing to hold onto for support, understanding the possibility that possibly you have held yourself back enough to hold on to something a little more stable than I could ever offer. I suppose that if it were stability that we were all looking for, we would all marry trees or brick fences – something more tangible than love.
But if I wanted stability I would only talk to you about the weather and the inconsequential events that keep you away from the mortality of my heart and the tangibility of fear and uncertainty. So I suppose it’s not really stability that I am looking for.
Before you there were two people whom I told that I loved. In hindsight, which is always laced with stunning clarity, I had no idea what I was talking about, no idea that depth at which ‘true love’ operated. On one hand I am proud that I can separate sex from love. On the other I am sad that I wasted, often times, both on those who didn’t understand either. Like praying to the god of lesser thing in the midst of a hurricane, there is little grace to be found in the realities of the situation.
There are things about me that I would change. Perhaps I would have started longer things earlier. Maybe I would have called you sooner. Possibly I would have not runaway from everything that I did. Yet when I stop and read those things aloud, they are the things that make me who I am and define the timing at which you strolled by. Things rarely happen without a reason or a cause. Life is funny that way.
And before everyone thinks I'm ready to slit my wrists, this is a writing assignment that's due on Wednesday morning. Critiques?
Deep down, I'm pretty superficial.