Of course while in the thick of my silence and stillness, drinking wine and playing songs. I think about what it would be like to have someone in my life. I’ve been alone for so long. I know myself so well.
I believed in it enough for the both of us. You and me and our own rules, living so unlike everyone else because our love was different.
What if? But what if a million things?
Eventually someone real will sneak in and change everything. He’ll break all those rules. He’ll interrupt your anti-emotional self
Maybe life won’t ever make sense in one specific place. Maybe I won’t ever make sense in one specific place, either.
Maybe I should feel guilty for being here. Maybe I should feel disgusted with myself for being “that” girl, for trying to have you when you’re somebody else’s lover now.
But I have no words for you. I’ve exhausted them. And no matter what I say or do not say, I will never be free from you.
We’ve been in this rut for so long, it seems, and yet there everyone else goes, their lives flourishing with big-time keywords—like baby and wedding and house and promotion! We are nowhere near those things. The idea of it makes us cringe, in fact. So why are we erasing ourselves to the mainstream when we don’t even believe in it, anyway?
I know I’ll survive. I’ll find my way out of it. I will end up fine. But sometimes I just want it to be ok that I’m so fucking mad.
Some nights were born for hearts, though. Surely this night was.