The heart bled. Bled faster than it had ever done before but it wasn’t in a fashion strange to me.
“I have been here before” I said “I always get here” I continued to tell myself as I fought back tears
All the tears I never imagined I could withhold in such pretty eyes as mine came rolling like drops of water on a window pane. Fast. Long. Clear. Irresistible. Still the feeling wasn’t strange and I could describe the pain. I was so used to the pain that it had become a yearly ritual. It felt like crawling on broken egg shells, like walking on melting wax, hoping to find a cold ground and then stepping right into the fire again.
I have loved. And if that’s not enough for anyone, then I’m afraid I know no other way. My heart and might I have put in everything but all I’ve ever been reminded of are the flashing scenes of my burnt memory. Love does not respect your good intentions. Love hurts… I mean this in every sense because I’ve been cut beyond repair
I remember now how everyone used to tell me it was important to keep a little selfish in my jar. It still doesn’t make sense why anyone would want to love and then get greedy. My “Patrick Jane” attitude to everything didn’t help at all because the more I doubted the potency of their suggestions; the more people broke what was left of me. Now all I ask myself…
“When did it become so wrong to stand in as a mother, lover, wife, sister and friend?”
“When did it become so wrong to love and expect a little concern in return?”
Perhaps it’s alright to get selfish sometimes. Just maybe it’s ok to ask myself
“What’s in it for me?”
Certainly if I ask myself questions, the answers will guide me into falling away… hopelessly and carelessly in love. The answers, I hope, will also serve as a parachute should I ever have to crash from cloud nine.
Once I had a lover who told me he had seen days darker than anything I could possibly imagine. He said he had loved… and was hoping his kindness would be repaid someday. I remembered how he cooed in my ears that night
“My love, if we are to work, then we must both be vulnerable. It’s only normal that one of us will be more vulnerable…. But the less vulnerable of us should not take advantage of it”
A soul mate indeed I thought I had found. It was the most beautiful feeling in the world. To get stupid with a being who thought the world of you regardless. To love a being helplessly knowing they wish you just as well as you think of them…. But I was late. The one who rocked my boat was a lot faster than I was. He learned to be selfish too.
Maybe someday I’ll learn to love, be selfish about it and not feel a pang of guilt. It doesn’t matter if I have to say this a thousand times. The truth remains that my lies will become my reality, if I continue to believe in them.