Please Do Me A Favor And Get Out Of My Head

I’m sorry, but could you please get out of my head?

Hello, there. I am sorry to say this but, please, could you get out of my head?

You have nestled deeply into the crevices of my mind, and the pretty shitty part is that you seem to be there for good.

Friends have told me to find another tenant, someone else that could possibly evict you from this precious plot of land I call my mind. Other friends have told me to accept that you are going to always be there, refusing to pay rent but always, forever, camping at the same spot, with a tattered, creased flag jutting out of the ground, proclaiming its eternal sovereignty over my brain. Some have told me to flood the lands with alcoholic bliss, to embrace the freedom of the former “chains” that tied me to you, to go and colonize someone else’s brain instead.

Men and women older and wiser have told me that nothing but pain will come from attempting to trespass on these memories, that nothing but regret and a sense of loss will be there.

Friends have told me that you are happy where you are, and are comfortable staying at the same place, forever out of reach yet seemingly so nearby. I would argue that its unfair, that you have shaken up the machinery, and perhaps changed quite a lot of it, and yet you can walk along your life without wanting me as your companion anymore.

It has already been over six months now, and I am getting tired. I am not sure, you know. I am wondering whether I still fill up a part of your head too. However, the last time I attempted to look, you had erected a huge wall and I could see nothing.

It’s been six months, six months of torturing myself, of self-blame, anger, regret, supposed acceptance, and countless attempts at moving on. Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I rather have you take up space in my head then accept that its well and truly over. It’s become an obsession now.

It’s no longer love, I think.

I still wonder why, though. After, it takes two hands to clap. So why do I feel all the blame, the sadness, but more than ever, why do I still want to FIX things. Why is it that at my end, that I still wish you were here, but on your side, you have decided that I am not what you want? Why is it that I am so masochistic to punish myself like this? I couldn’t even kick you out if I tried. If our bond was strong, it would not have been cut so easily. Yet it was the strongest one I ever had.

I am sorry, but please get out of my head. I am a different person now, a changed man. The only one thing that remains the same is that I can only lie and tell you to get out, when all I want is for you to be here.

I guess you can live rent free here if you want.