It Was Really Hard

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.

Thank you.

The last thing you said; “I still hold you in high esteem you know”.

Then why cannot I not love you?



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