Here and there

you want me but you don’t.

you wont let me go but wont ask me to stay.

you ask me to stay but only when you know that I can’t.

you want me. but only so no one else can have me.

you drag me down this path of deceit with you. you want me. But for all the wrong reasons. Not for who i truly am.

you won’t let go of me. even though you need to.

you won’t set me free.

you want me.

but you don’t love me

you desperately cling to me. unable to give me up.

but you don’t love me. No matter what you say.

you know better. you have to know better. but despite that, you won’t let me go.

 

Too late

I am messy. I am dysfunctional. I am fucked up. But I only let you see the pieces that I’ve carefully crafted. The pieces that I want you to see.

you think you’ve seen my messy,destructive behavior. you think you know all about me. and you think you love it all. But you don’t. All you see is a manipulation. An image pieced bit by bit together to give you what you want, what you crave. an arranged construction.

everything you see is a projection. none of it is real. a blueprint of your innermost desires.

and to you, I’m just an innocent. just a girl. a girl that you enjoy corrupting.

But you are wrong. I am a fucking woman. And you have no clue what you’re dealing with.

And with a woman, you don’t realize until it is too late.

anticipation

When you leave, and you always leave, you leave me unsatisfied and empty.  I’m drawn in with the allure of something more, something special. And even with your valiant efforts and persuasive words, you leave me empty. It happens time and time again, you fill my mind, my body, my heart with anticipation and love only to deflate it once you appear.

Giddy anticipation fills me till we break, my expectations vaporize, leaving me more empty than ever before. My air is filled with words, but they are only words, and they mean nothing. And that’s all you are, words and broken emptiness.  You presume yourself chivalrous and forcible; unaware that all you have ever given me, all you ever leave me with, is angst and attack. You are not real, you do not exist, my imaginary boyfriend. 

You are a facade,  built up over years of anticipation of the possibility. The ‘love’ created in our imaginations is so surreal and beautiful, that any promise of reality was shattered when the word was first uttered. It is paradoxical really, the premise is miraculous and forever untouched, yet it demolishes us and our reality. You are not real, we do not exist. I am merely a piece of your imagination, as you are of mine

You are, always have been, and always will be my imaginary boyfriend.

imaginary-boyfriend1

There is no terror in the bang, only in the anticipation of it.

-Alfred Hitchcock 

the exception

you are two people…

the man i know you to be and the man whose actions tell me differently

the man i hope you to be and the man who i know you are

the man that i thought i knew and the man that i don’t know at all

my best friend and the one who causes all of my pain

the one i could tell anything to and the one who holds it against me

the man that i love and the man that i hate

the man that i love and the man that i love

enough

I want you to love me enough.

enough to let me go. enough to see that you are holding me back. i want you to love me enough to know it’ll never work and you’ll just end up breaking my heart. enough to know that what you are asking me isn’t fair. enough to think i deserve better. enough to think you are being selfish.

i want you to love me enough to set me free.

because i am not strong enough to let you go. because i love you enough.

enough to hold on despite everything. enough to push you forward. because i love you enough to blindly, to stupidly believe in our future. because, despite everything, i love you enough to have faith in you, in us. enough to knowingly be your escape. a fantasy. because i love you enough to not ask for anymore than i know you are capable of giving. enough to give up everything for you.

because i love you enough to set you free.

broken

Thanks for the idea Coco J. Ginger and the Boy with a Hat. after reading your amazing posts about what a broken heart feels like, I absolutely had to write my own…..i could only wish i could express my feelings in such an amazing, eloquent way.

to me a broken heart feels like you will never be you again. like no one ever really ‘saw’ the real you before, and no one ever will again. it feels like the mask, the protection has been ripped off, exposing you to the harshest conditions. like everything, your whole life has been an act, the whole world a stage and you, an actor. but you never knew…and the only thing real was your pain. and being forced back on stage to continue the act. but knowing it isn’t real. and no one else knows they are acting. and wanting to scream. wanting to tell them. none of it is real. but you can’t, the show must go on. and you must keep acting.

but inside it boils.

its living in an isolated world, a world you deliberately created. one that was once inhabited with love and light but is now full of sorrow and loneliness. and being trapped there. unable to leave. being alone. it is anger and betrayal. and the feeling that your life will never be the same, that you will never be the same. it is fear. it is raw feelings, without a canvas to pile them. its emotions without the ability to discover them, to communicate them. frustration. it is words without speech. it is an explosion of anger, fear, loathing, sickness, and sadness. it is art without an artist. it is sickness. it is torturing yourself. it is reliving every perfect moment, only to have each ripped away again by a startling reality. it is waking up from a perfect dream before the end. it is the realization that you are dreaming while you are still asleep… it is feeling broken.

like discovering a secret. a magical secret so grand and amazing that it fundamentally changes you. and then being forced to go back. to go back and to live in the world with out the secret. but knowing the magic exists, and being forced to live without it.

it is your subconscious understanding what you refuse to. it is hoping for ‘someday’ knowing that full well that day will never come. knowing that if you let it you will lose yourself… and wanting to anyways. and hating yourself for wanting.

it is wanting what you can never have.

it is the dream i had about you. it wasn’t even a good dream, but one full of heartbreak and sadness. full of realism. but i was still with you. i held you. and you let me. but even in the dream, we both know it wouldn’t last. that i would go home, tortured by the situation and that you would go home to your new girlfriend. but still. i wake up happy…vibrating for a few seconds. and then it goes away, because you go away. but still this dream is the highlight of my day, preferable to reality, because at least i was with you. while all the while breaking me.

it is feeling broken because it seems like there is only one person who could ever love you like that. who crazily seemed to to love you more and more with every day. more and more each time he discovered more about you…who said forever. who changed his mind. who thought you were worthy, beautiful, and smart. who changed his mind. who found someone more beautiful. more worthy. and smarter.

it is seeing a perfect family and discovering they are unhappy. it is marriage without love. it is being either a liar or a coward. or both. it is sleepless nights followed by sleepless nights. like going out and being blinded by the sun.

it is losing connections to the world. becoming a recluse when what you really need people. it is retreating…wanting to escape, to move away. to start somewhere new and fresh. it is being scared to share your feelings. it is sharing a secret and being judged. it is your best friend not knowing, not understanding you anymore. it is not knowing what to say, when someone really needs you. feeling like something isn’t right, but not knowing what. like losing your best friend, who you thought you would have forever. it is regret. regret for all the things you didn’t say. regret for all the things that scared you. regret for taking it for granted. and not realizing how lucky you are to fall in love with your best friend… and then losing not only the person you love, but your best friend…and regretting not being good enough.

it is the feeling of being literally deleted. being deleted. removed, gone. in the virtual world this is so easy. if only it was so easy to delete them from your heart and mind…the memories. the feelings. i don’t understand… how can you do that so easily? it is wallowing in depressing music. it is reading old text messages and emails. it is going to listen to the playlist you made me and finding it gone. deleted. it is knowing we can never go back. that we will never be friends. knowing that i can’t talk to you. it is the joke about call me maybe that made me think of you. that made me want to to talk to you. to tell you about. it is the library card rap song that i know you would love. it is the story my dad told me about being a minister when he was 22 that i know would make you laugh. it is not being able to talk to you when that is all i want in the world.

it is hoping that someday you regret losing me…that you realize what we had. but hoping you don’t, because i want you to be happy. but wishing i was the one who made you happy. and knowing it doesn’t matter. but wishing it did.

it is seeing your new girlfriend telling you she loves you. it is virtual stalking. its my heartbreaking each time i see it. it is wishing i could delete you. and remembering your favorite movie, eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. it is remembering you telling me that no matter how difficult it was you would never want to erase me…but i want to erase you. because it hurts too much. it is you telling me every decision in your life brought you to me. it is a lie. it is me relating to kirsten dunst’s character. repeatedly falling for someone who doesn’t even care and uses her… and wondering if that would be my fate. but then remembering who you are, and knowing you would never do that to me. and falling in love with you all over again, only to be broken once again.