Wednesday, August 24, 2011

At Square One

This is me... giving up. For real this time. I'm putting it into words so that maybe I can feel I have taken part in pushing those away that have left. Did I push them away? No, I pulled too hard. I've been pulling when I should've been pushing. (We'll just pretend that sentence isn't as awkward as it really is)

I'm through with the sadness, I'm through with the yearning. I will be me and you will be you. I will wade through my muck and look for my shine, the shine that could get me noticed. The shine that broadens those lips into a smile... the shine that I had a hold of but recent events have hidden it from me, once again.

Here I am, at square one... blinking away tears and turning away from love. It's easier this way, it's safer. My heart can't take much more. I'm putting it through hell and truly making myself look terrible at every turn.

I'm over it, I'm done. I would like to say you won. It's a game that we play with each other, a fishing game in a sense. I toss my bait out just to reel it in to discover I have caught nothing but an old boot.... while those around me are catching the most beautiful, beautiful beings... and even a few extra when they already have a stack in their boat. I'm putting away my rod and reel... I'm hiding it from myself once more.

"Don't give up on love!" they plead. The irony of the source... I give a smug smile and say, "But it's just not my turn." I'm not giving up on love, per se... I'm just not trying anymore. Obviously, I'm doing it wrong. When I do things wrong I like to correct them or stop doing whatever it was to begin with... I tried fixing it and yeah, to no avail... so here I am... giving up. This is my moan and groan and sadness that is leaking out. To expose myself.

I always expose myself.... from the heartbeat out. I spill my dreams, my woes, my bruised heart... It's too much. Too much. I don't need pity, don't want it either. I will just let my heart beat on the outside with solitary drumming once more. This is my blood spilled onto canvas. This is my tears on pages.

This is my resignation from the chase.

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