Monday, May 30, 2011

The Set Heart

Don't you worry about me too much; one day you won't see me again. I'll be off, somewhere else, living the life I've always wanted. I'll be embraced by tall buildings, enveloped by thriving life, participating in the rush and filling my heart with content. I may be alone, but alone is what I want; cutting ties is the only way for me to get there, I hope you understand. Even if you don't, I'm still going.

I didn't always want to go there, be another ant in the anthole of a concrete city, but it's grown on me. I've romanticised it for sure, but the fact that reality is going to be harsher than I dreamed is not a deterrent, quite the contrary, in fact. No matter the struggle, the city lights will always be there to guide the way. The longing for the place has settled in my heart, hooking itself into my ventricles and letting the pumping muscle grow over it, so much so, that it is now as much a part of me as my blood, as the cells which create me. It's not leaving easily; the only way to satisfy this longing is to give in to it.

I ask only one thing of you, despite not having any right to ask anything at all and that is, don't follow me. I don't want you there. That's why I'm leaving. You don't have to understand. Just don't follow.

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Just a Dream

Well I'm allowed to dream aren't I? I'm allowed to hope, aren't I? I'm allowed to wish for something I know is never going to come true. It might break my heart to invest so much emotion in the impossible, and it might make me long for something I don't deserve, but I'll do it anyway. No one ever need know. There's a certain comfort in a dream, the way there's a certain comfort for you when you twirl your hair around your fingers and I catch you out of the corner of my eye and smile just a little bit, knowing you're just a dream. Wishing you could be more.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Ray of Sunshine

Things sometimes seem so broken, so lost; a repetitive cycle turning around and around and around without a break. Did you ever think that perhaps it was time for a ray of sunshine into this broken life? We aren't held here because of want, or need, but because you won't let us go. I want to be let go.

So I'm letting you go. Fly, I don't want to see you here again. I found something in me, a want, a longing which has been felt before, but directed in different areas; this time it's possible to fulfill the yearning, I just have to let you go. It's time you found your way to the door and left my life; you offered me a challenge, and I'm picking up the gauntlet.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Recurring Suspicions

You know, this isn't the first time such thoughts have spun through my head; they keep coming back, spinning around and around, like some dizzying merry-go-round. I escape them for a while, and I think "maybe this time it's for good," but they always return.

Rationality says "no, this can't be true, you're imagining things again," and maybe Rationality is right. But a sinister little voice cuts in and whispers vile contradictions in my ear. I almost side with that voice; it seems to have some evidence, even if it's tenuous. After all, I can't have imagined your eyes flickering over to me; surely I can't just be looking up every time you're looking over? And I'm sure you were staring and that's what caused me to look up from my book and catch you looking at me again. I'm not sure what those glances entail, but I would like to find out.

And how is it that we always end up sitting opposite each other? Coincidence? Because I can tell you now that I do not choose my seating position relative to yours. How about you? But perhaps that would explain why my eyes naturally seek you; you're always there. Also, I'm curious about you and your own glances in my direction.

I'm sure there's nothing to this. I'm sure it's mostly my imagination playing me and making links and filling the gaps in incorrectly. I'm sure I'm wrong. But. What if I'm right? What if all those looks and those tiny things from previous weeks actually mean something?

Well, I suppose it doesn't matter. People keep too much to themselves; I doubt this case would be an exception. Society isn't as openminded as it thinks it is, after all.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Wings Won't Stop Beating

All I want is to make you sorry. I want you to regret it, to regret this. I want to be everything you want to be, but more; better, more successful and everything unattainable by you. Revenge is such a strong motivation. Who knew?

One day I'll be sitting at the top of the mountain, seeing all the little people down below. I'll look down its steep sides, the ones I had to climb all on my own, and I'll flex my hands, so the scars upon them stretch and remind me that I am where I am because I put in the effort. I'll see you somewhere down the bottom, struggling, because really, you couldn't do it. We both knew you wouldn't be able to get out of your little security bubble; you were too afraid of getting hurt, of losing it all. Well here's the thing: you can't gain anything if you aren't prepared to risk everything. And when I'm at the top, and you're still scrambling down the bottom I'll yell down to you "these wings wouldn't stop working for anybody." You'll look up, and you'll hate me and I won't even mind, because I got there because you wanted to be there and because you broke me. If you hadn't, I wouldn't have bothered. I suppose I'll have to give you a thank you along the way, but don't expect me to throw you a line, not unless you're really sorry first.

So stay out of my way. You know I'm going to be better at it anyway.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Watching and Waiting

I follow the trail of your life with breathless expectancy. I watch and I wait, watch and wait, and hope for you, every time thinking "maybe this time," but nothing has happened yet. Your life still remains unresolved, you still hide behind your facade and none, save one, has seen the walls come down. I'm waiting for them all see your defenses fall. Not because I wish you the pain or the humiliation it might bring, but because I believe your happiness lies over that boundary between your facade and your true self. I hope that you realise that the only person who matters has already seen the true you, and they defend you and they want the best for you, but they can't do for you what you must do for yourself. And they can't wait forever either. You might want to think about that the next time you think you can't say what you long to say. And I'll sit there and watch and hope that this time, the words will flow and weave your story in the air so that everyone will know. Your fortress will fall, but you'll finally feel the sun.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Winter of Silence

If I lay out all the pictures of you and me, would I be able to see the gulfs between our souls? If I'd looked close enough, would I have seen the best of times flying by? We hardly explored every facet of our relationship, but I think I like it better this way; what we had was good enough. I always knew the energy would fizzle out into only the occasional bit of movement. Our laughter's gone into hibernation, and our conversation has retreated into the back of the deepest cave, waiting for this winter of silence to end. Sometimes there are signs of life, but they quickly realise that spring has not yet arrived, and so dejectedly put their heads back down and drift back into sleep. The odd thing is, I'm content to live in this sort of winter - a little lonely, but not altogether cold; the silence a recuperating one, rather than an imprisoning one. I guess it's true when they say "out of sight, out of mind" and while it's a little sad, I'm sure we'll find the time to let spring appear on our doorsteps once again.

But I just want you to know that I haven't forgotten, I just haven't had the time. Those photos still mean the world, laid out in an artistic fashion, and the memories still bring smiles. The time's not yet come for tears. I just needed a little time for me.

Friday, May 6, 2011

Lessons to be Learned

Why is it so hard for you to back off? Why is it so hard for you to see that you're not wanted around? Why do you insist on doing exactly what we don't want you to?

You think you're always right, but no, you're not. You state your opinion as fact, but here's a fact for you, it's not. You think you have the right to intimidate people, but you don't. You think that you have the right to get angry when someone tells you not to touch them, well guess fucking what, you don't have that right. Maybe, just maybe you should start learning to respect the world and the people in it, and then maybe, just maybe, something in your low, acrid, meaningless life will go right for you. You're poisonous, and that is all your own doing. Then you wonder why we can't stand you.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Seasons of Change

Sometimes something strange happens; there's an almost imperceptible shift in the air, in the organs inside you, in the blood cells in your veins - a miniscule change, like something snapping, or falling into place. It's normally nothing dramatic, just another moment in an ordinary day, which only when you look back reveals itself as extraordinary, a turning point in your life. Sometimes, you may not even remember what you were doing in that moment, but remember the feeling of it, the way that you looked up from what you were doing and suddenly felt a tiny bit different, as though something else was inhabiting your skin as well as yourself; or as though something left through it.

You can't tell straight away what it is that had changed, but you knew there was something not quite right. Or maybe, not quite wrong anymore. It's only when you look at certain places, or at certain objects, or hear certain people's names or smell certain scents, and nothing traumatic comes rushing back, no intense feelings, that you realise what it is. You realise that you're ok now, that you truly have moved on. You walk back through your memory and though there is a certain nostalgia, it's not painful, and you no longer fervently wish yourself back to happier days; you realise that these are happier days. You let the memories of recent times surface and you pinpoint that one moment where it all changed - the moment you truly began a new chapter in the book of your life. So with your new leaf turned over, you go forth. Things are never the same again, but thinking about it, you don't want them to be.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Thrill Seeker

Why do you entice me only to leave me so unsatisfied? You know it isn't fair. You don't answer the questions you promised to, you don't deliver the things you'd said, and still I follow because I want to know what happens next. You whet our appetite and leave us craving more, but it's time you started showing that our trust wasn't unfounded; if you give an entrée, you have to deliver a meal. And I know you tease because you know I'll follow; the road ahead is dark, but I know yours are the only lights, though false others will try to lead us astray like the fabled will o' the wisp. So although you'll pull me high only to drop me down, and make me feel safe, only to terrify me at the next turn, I'll follow and I'll watch, only because the thrill is so addictive.