Reality 


I thought you were never going to disappear.

Again…

I thought you loved me too;

At least in some weird way.

I thought we were meant to be.

We were, 

If only for a moment.

We needed each other.

Guess we don’t anymore.

Or do we?

I guess I’ll never know

Or will I?

The choice is yours.

I’ll always love you.

But I’m tired of always being the one

To reach out,

To miss you,

To think about us

If there ever was an us

Perhaps you were a figment of my imagination all along

Never really real.

Is anything?

I wonder



What you see when you close your eyes at night.

Why I’m always searching for and never really finding you.

How two people can be so close while so far apart. 

When the bubble will burst, and the fantasy will flop.

What our story will be after the climax.

Who will fall apart first.

If our love will survive.

I wonder.

Did that really just happen?


  
A long time ago. 

You stopped my world. 

In a crowded room, there was only you,

And I.

And we both knew it.

At least I fantasize that you knew too.

Life was life.

I had a boyfriend and told you he might answer the phone, but I still gave you my number, because I knew it was you.

Not sure what would have happened if you called, but I’ve always wondered what life would have been.  

I’ll forgive you because of tonight.

We are meant to be together. 

I knew it then.

I’ve never forgotten it.

Never forgotten you.

Then tonight.

Did that really happen?

Are you real?

Your face,

Your voice,

Your everything,

The touch of your skin,

The taste of your lips,

Your mouth on my breast,

Feeling you?

Drinking you?

Was that real?

It can’t be.

People don’t make out with strangers.

People don’t mysteriously connect on the side of the road, after a brief meeting which might have been a dream 12 or 13 years ago.

People don’t have soul mates, or soul-friends-with-benefits, or soul strangers.

There’s no such thing as meant to be.

But I’ll tell you this,

That?

Tonight? 

Was…

Beyond description.

The memory 

Will never leave me.

It’s magic.

Just like those few minutes so many years ago.

Whether that was the same you,

Or merely the you of that moment.

Whether then or tonight really even happened,

Or they were drug induced dreams.

You, are the one I’ve been hoping to find.

Thank you for being real.

Or not…

Just Stop


  

Stop playing me.

Stop using me.

Stop toying with me. 

Stop taking advantage of me.

Stop hurting me.

Stop destroying me and then reviving me so you can destroy me again.

I’m so tired of it.

Tired of hoping.

Tired of caring.

Tired of thinking.

Tired of you. 

So stop. Go away or come back so I can pretend I don’t want you to leave. 

Maybe I don’t.

Maybe all I want is for you to stop.

I love being tangled up in you.


I had the strangest dream last night.

I must admit it felt so right.

I was alone, (or so it seemed)

Till it appeared, (or so I dreamed).

The rarely seen, mysterious beast

Upon whom I like to feast.

It drew me in, this twitching string.

I played the cat, clawed at the thing.

Focus on, my mind entranced

Spellbound as the string danced.

I finally caught the elusive thing;

That taunting, disappearing string.

It felt so good between my paws,

Tasting it within my jaws.

Did I play with it, or it with me?

One day the truth I just might see.

It doesn’t matter either way,

The game is fun when both can play.

But now it’s time to groom my fur.

To rub a leg and start to purr.

One day we will meet again.

My muse, and captivating friend.

Happily Ever After


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So many people have an idea of what “happily ever after” looks like. I realized tonight that my “happily ever after” doesn’t look anything like the typical hopes and dreams most people have.

Some of us are cut from a different mold, and maybe, just maybe, it is okay to want something different. I will always value the fairy tale from a literary standpoint, and I am hopeful for those who choose to follow that path. 

My own story will have a much different ending, hopefully still filled with excitement and adventure, but I don’t want a fairy tale prince (or princess for that matter).

I think some people are meant to be alone, and I honestly think I’m one of them. Why should that be a sad thing? 

I want passionate lovers to color the pages of my book, but I want to be the author of the story. I want whirlwind romances to sweep me off my feet, but am I wrong for hoping they don’t linger too long?

I’m a writer. Maybe not the best writer, but can a fairy tale still exist without the romantic “and they lived happily ever after” at the end?  Continue reading

Hurting


  

Yes, there’s the emotional pain of abandonment and loss and rejection, of my…nevermind. I shouldn’t even talk about that heartbreak. 

Physical pain is kicking my ass at the moment. It feels like my legs are burning and being crushed at the same time, and then they spasm and I can’t describe it. From an 8 to a 10. Thankfully each only lasts a second, and they only come every 30 seconds or so. Nothing like real pain to distract you from emotional bs. 

That said, I’ll always miss you.

Do you ever miss me?




I’m doing ok.

Life is actually really good in many ways.

I don’t even miss you all the time. 

But I do sometimes.

Like tonight.

It would be fun to text harass the shit out of you.

Saying nothing important.

I don’t know why.

Sometimes I think that I _______________ you so much because of a fantasy.

I believed you were a kindred spirit. 

Corny, I know.

You understood me in ways that I’m still discovering.

At least my fantasy of you did.

You seemed to…the whole you, not just my dream parts, seemed to know me.

So, it’s your fault.

Why I miss you.

Why I smile just thinking about you reading this and knowing it’s about you.

Do you even read me anymore?

Do you miss me some nights too? 

Dare I say it…miss my endless textversations with myself on your behalf?

I don’t know, maybe you’re glad for the quiet. 

Maybe I was too much for you.

If so don’t blame yourself.

Please don’t start to cry, and no need to call a therapist.

You can alway text me about it.

I don’t get it


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You say you don’t want to play this game
If it was a game, I’d feel the same.
The problem is it’s very real.
I can’t escape the way I feel.

What did I do or say
That made it so easy for you to run away?
Why am I even bothered by it?
It would be better if I didn’t give a shit.

I know exactly what I should do;
Let me be me, and you be you.
Play the part of “I don’t care”
Laugh and dance; learn life’s not fair.

If you love something, let it go
If it comes back, then you’ll know.
But what will I know; that it was a game?
That no one could ever feel the same?

That life is best spent by myself?
Emotions kept neatly on a shelf?
Never risking love or loss?
Floating along, not trying to cross?

Never looking for something more
Than a life that’s easy to ignore.
One day it will somehow end;
This hope of finding a true friend.

Until that day I’ll be just fine.
So please forgive this poetic whine.
For now I’ll simply smile and nod.
Become the happy, perfect fraud.