It is 3:07 am. My man, who-ever you are; this game has been taken way too far! You’ve gotta stop!! Every time you come thru, Chili buts in givin’ me another clue; I should get over you! But I am. Dayum! This story really is never-ending. I gave my old story the boots. But each time I do, you come back to me! Yes, you! And then what happens next; is that Chili comes thru.
I’m so confused by the two of you! What game are you playing my men? I mean; this can’t be! There’s no messin’ with the heart. (draft saved:3:13:37 am)Ok, let’s get smart. Am I doing this to myself, making this game so hard, cuz each time you come close I run hard? Cuz yeah, that is exactly what I do. When you come too close to me, I close. Like a flower. I’m afraid of your loving power. Afraid to get hurt.
But I’m not the same since I started this lame game. I’ve changed. I no longer re-act when my one and only true suspect comes back. This? This is just a script. It’s play. And I? Play along. To each word, piece and song. But it’s long! And it should stop! It’s been nuff! I didn’t know my heart had such trememdous stamina. (draft saved:3:17:37 am word count:222)Me? I would’ve called it quits a long time ago, like a year or three.
And that is what I did! And I’ve felt so so so quilty over it.
***
You tell me you broke your back once. You never told me how. Or maybe you did, but by now we know thru my shit, my dope, that your memory is way better than mine. You’re the elephant. But so am I. I write out live, you remind me of our story. I mention the elephant in the room and you simply come thru. To me. In telepathy. For me? What should I see? Do you want to shake me??
(word count:333)I tell you bout a little purple book I have. I go and get it and read to you out loud what breaking your back emotionally could’ve been about. We chat. It’s relaxed. We talk bout yoga. You do a handstand. Not me. I’m scared to fully show myself to you. (word count:370) I hold back. It gets worse and worse the more your inner being gets a grip on me that eve. I don’t feel free. It gets harder and harder for me to breathe.
We go to bed, to sleep. It’s late. I can’t sleep. Who is that man lying next to me? Why does he have such an affect on me? Waaaah, he needs to leave! I can’t handle his company, it’s overwhelming me! After a while I tell you I can’t sleep. You reply:”just breathe.” I try. At four in the morning I ask you to leave… I’m so incredibly sorry but I can’t see how this, us, could be, in the morning. I have to be alone. I have to calm myself down. I’m in panic mode. I want you to stay so desperately but I ask you to leave. Contradiction? Yes. That’s me. Unless you can read me.
I see you driving off on your motorbike on the street, while I’m watching you from high above in my appartment on the 25th floor. I feel so sad. I feel relief too. No one will see me vulnerable. Not even me. I can breathe. Tho hardly. I’m so lonely. (word count:573) “What did I do?!” Omg, why did I sent you home?! I didn’t even want you to go! How rude of me. You came all this way to see me and I’m sending you home?! (word count:330)
The next day I do e-mail you an apology. “I’m sorry, I got overwhelmed.” Was the main message. Your reply? “Don’t worry babe, it was a beautiful ride up.” The dawn had just started to set-in, when I sent you home and I went into a spin. I cried. Inside. I never wanted you to ride away and I never really wanted to hide from you. But I didn’t know what else to do.
And now? Three years later? Is this whole play, this story, based on you? (time:3:33 am)
To be continued… (published:3:44 am)