I am so tired of this.
This back and forth.
This push and pull.
This ebb and flow.
This rise and fall.
I feel like I am and vulnerable, trading water, desperate to stay afloat and gasping for air in the raging seas as the sky above threatens violence.
I feel like I am standing naked before you, endlessly waiting for your response of disgust for my body while being consumed by suspense and fear.
I feel so exposed.
I feel as if I am dangling over a cliff grasping desperately to an unraveling rope as you stand over me, feet safely planted onto firm ground. On your face is a smirk. I keep waiting for you to pull me up, take me safely into your arms and reassure me as you kiss away my fears and tears.
I feel so lost and alone. When you used to listen and engage in conversations with me, you don’t anymore. I made you my best friend, because we couldn’t be together. I put too much stock in you. I stumbled a few times. And now we have light conversations that are so shallow. Now I have lost that sanctuary to be myself in. I have lost you.
Then I again see signs. You show me signs again awakening my heart and soul. A fire lights within again. And it all starts over after I have claimed to be done. Yet through it all, I seem to lack the strength to walk away, and allow you to rip through my heart again with those piercing fangs of yours. Because everytime I allow you to take of me, I receive something in return. It never matters what piece it is, I always find it beautiful.
I thankfully accept each piece and place it within my own. But now when I look into the mirror, I see something unexpected. I no longer see myself. I see some collage of broken pieces. I see jagged edges and sharp protrusions. I see torn flesh, so I attempt to sew myself back together. But I know that I will never be the same. This package and contents will never again be in mint condition.
You need to leave but you won’t. This is a game to you. I need to leave, but I can’t. I am so desperate for you to love me enough to give me my own original pieces back, so that I can remember who I was before you broke me. Or for you to love me enough to love me right.
I was right to keep my walls up all those years. But I was so dry and parched! I was so thirsty when you tempted me with your cool water. I may have been cruel and calculating, but at least I was smart and satisfied.
I thank you for your gifts, but I must respectfully decline. I would like a full refund, because you are no storm. You rock my world; however, you shake my steady ground. You, my Dear, are an earthquake.