As intricate of a rhythm made by the overlapping beats between both of our hearts, there seemed to be just enough space left between the notes and ebb & flow for what was potential to escape our grasps. I saw you through the eyes of a man with budding, strong emotion only to die by a sudden winter of reality. Not even emotions can escape mortality.
You’re too hurt to love again and I’m too fragile to stay hoovered in emotional limbo while I wait for your heart to grow back the part your last partner took from you. Know that I am not upset with the circumstance just disappointed and maybe a little hurt, too. I keep telling myself that it’s okay to feel this way, but it doesn’t make it any easier to feel the small sting the truth gave me, without hesitation.
Though I was warned from the beginning, a small part of my psyche hoped that maybe your healing process would speed up if you had someone new to show affection toward.
How cute.
I should have known better than to think with emotion as the guiding force; they always seem to act as a veil to what’s really going on right before my eyes. As I sit here on this bed, avoiding this paper I need to write by writing this small account for my current emotional state, I think of you and how empty and large this twin size bed feels some nights. A part of me wonders if I had never initiated that conversation, would you be here right now? Is there anyway for me to take back what was said that day somehow? Can I have a moment of immaturity and beat myself up for taking what was such a simple pleasure away but still know that it was for the best of my emotional state?
Your baggage is yours to carry and I thank you for not wanting to unload that on me. A year ago I would have taken it, all of it just to keep you near. Sometimes I could swear that the old me hasn’t left, that he’s the one sitting right here. The one who wasn’t responsible, the one who didn’t put himself first; the one who forgot about himself and in doing so, ended up getting hurt over and over again. I still feel a bit sad and I, at times, hate this boundary. I see it like the Berlin wall and I just want it gone, I want to break it down, watch it fall. But it’s there for a reason and who knows, maybe even for a season. But I can’t count on that, for my sake. That dream is something my being can’t take. Because when and if that’s not the case, I’ll be more than disappointed; those sort of let downs tend to devastate.
bdotharrison 