Maybe I’m a mess.
I’m on the floor again. The sun rose, shining in sleepy eyes full of distorted ideals and dreams that turn to mist and fade in the stark brightness. Oh, those dreams. It seems all I have are dreams. I can still feel… I cling to dreams harder each night, but they always dissipate when the light touches them. Words spoken in all honesty hang solidly in the air and I know truth, as you see it. It’s there, on your face and I realize.. that’s what matters to me- this honest, humble truth in you. Of course, I could ask you to lie. I’ve resorted to that before, when I believed if I made you say it, it would be true. I could also pretend there isn’t anything here – all or nothing is easy. It’s this honesty in between that’s difficult. There’s a heaviness in truth.
I carry it, because what else can I do?
Some truth is heavier than others. It echoes in my ears and I stare at the words that imply.. What? That if I knew how special I was I’d leave? That you aren’t going to try? That I should give up? I don’t ask, and you won’t know… how much I wish it were you. I wonder what’s wrong with me that it can’t be. I could give up. I could walk away. Find someone who gives what you say I should have.. but would there be truth? Would there be honesty? Empty words said by rote, actions because they are expected. I’ve been there. I’ve heard the hollowness, felt the coldness and didn’t care. Here there’s words spoken in earnest, affection shown with genuineness, even if it’s a struggle. So, I’ll keep fighting.
Because there’s nothing else I could want.