It was really hard not to speak to you last night.
Not to text, call, post; not to ask about you or your day.
I know it’s not fair.
It’s selfish that I want to continue to have you but cannot give you what you want.
Why don’t I want you that way? I don’t understand.
I wish I could be happy with you, with what you give to me physically and what I feel for you mentally.
Emotionally I am no longer adept. I am not fit for company and I cannot feel anything but numbness and guilt.
Everywhere I turn I see people that remind me of the ones I should fear, the ones that I entangled with and came out broken for; and if I don’t see them – I dream about them, each dream uglier than the next, each face increasingly losing semblance of reality and leaving me with a disfigured perception of who it should be, haunting me.
I found recluse with you the night before, in the car, while I sobbed endlessly into my hand and you held the other.
The last thing you said; “I still hold you in high esteem you know”.
Then why cannot I not love you?