on most days i know that you love me and i feel fine and great and happy
and on other days i am not sure, not sure at all, and i wonder and wonder but it's actually just worry and worry
and most nights are great and we have a sort of rhythm where we're both exhausted and shivering
other nights, one of us sleeps on the couch, can't finish, can't talk
i exit quickly and speed home in my car, like some kind of getaway
is it my fault, is it your fault
when will we really get to each other
how can i touch you with anything shorter than a ten foot pole
i want to, jesus christ i want to but why, why
i just bolt the other way, and you don't run after me
we've been sitting across the fence for so long
i want to come over
i don't want to come over.
i want you to come in my room
i don't want you to SEE my room
seven years, eight years
i love it, i just can't take it, i'm upset, i'm so happy
i will let you get me in all sorts of ways until we're breathing exactly the same and even then, even then it is not enough, i am not safe.
but you are the safest,
and i am not safe.
it's not you, it's me
but it's not me, it's you
i want to fight you, i want to fall apart and cry and punch you in the face and yell all the things i've been yelling for all these years
and i want to love you and kiss you and tell you you're wonderful and say thank you for every second you've put up with me, every time you've made me feel good and safe
and i want to run away again and i want to not call you again and i want to hide from you again.
i know my brain is full of poison and problems and i know enough to want to fix it and be okay and stay here but i can only function at 50, 60 percent and i'm afraid that maybe i will never get back to one hundred percent. and i can't even tell you this, i can't even express this. you were still with me then, but farther, you saw me but you really don't know. we have so much to say, i have kept as many secrets from you as you have kept from me. i never tell anybody anything. i keep things from you. i never did before. i used to have a rule. i broke it. i got sick. i got hurt. why do we do it. i just love you, and i'm so sorry. you're my best friend.
we did have a couple books, when i was little. aesops fables had a story of a dog, who had a nice piece of meat but he looked and saw his reflection in the water, which showed an even bigger, juicier piece of meat. and so the dog tried to bite at the bigger, better piece, and he lost the piece he had in the first place. it fell out of his mouth, it splashed in the water and sunk. and then the dog had no meat at all. the dog was hungry.
and i have lived in the shadow of this story forever. honestly.
i am losing my whole fucking mind.