Tuesday, March 20, 2012

I'll tell you good news that I don't believe if it will help you sleep.

Strange mercy. 

Did you ever really stare at me like I stared at you? 

A person like you could never understand the tsunami of emotion that crashes into the core of me each time I see you. The cold, bitter bite of love mingled with the warm, viscous red of my self hate sends my fingers tingling and makes the tip of my nose interestingly numb. 

For a moment, just a sweet, split second of paused time, the length of half a heartbeat, hope clouds my vision and I look into a future that will never come to pass. A feeling, an intuition that embodies another version of myself that has the ability to reach for a possibility of a promise of tenderness. 

There is so much that happens. Eternity and my whole universe melts around me and I find myself breathing in, just in hopes of catching your scent. (I've not managed to identify the exact fragrance yet but it is familiar.) 

Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock. He walks towards me, he's next to me, he passes me. And just like that, the moment is gone. I can probably count the number of words we have ever exchanged on one hand. I have never, ever been able to make eye contact. 

I might be smitten, hopelessly infatuated, but I am not, not, not, not, not stupid. And I have always had the wonderful gift of knowing my place. I know very clearly what I do and what I do not deserve. 

Then the weight of reality slams into me and that elation of love and hate and blood and promise turns into a rancid stench that crawls like insects across my skin and absorbs into my muscles and drags me down. 

The fatigue stays with me. Even at the gym. But I just think of you. And all the glory that surrounds you. I think of your biceps. Your abs. How I don't deserve to meet your eyes. And so I run, even when I feel like I'm going to fall off the treadmill. 

And so I run, I run like I am trying to get away from you. Because seeing you reminds me that I am not good enough. 


  1. your writing is beautiful. it makes some sort of warmth revel in me, something utterly soothing. and baby, he is not enough. you are. you are everything. to us, he is nothing. and here, you can be whatever you want to be, so choose to run away if it to elapse yourself from the weight of him - and we can always run faster, harder, and disappear into the light.

    take care of yourself beautiful. remember. to us, you are not 'good enough', you're better than that. you are too good.
    -Sam Lupin

  2. You never know what may happen. The first time I met Marcus I suddenly became so nervous and shy that my face went a bright red and my hands shook so hard that I spilt my coffee all over his jeans. I couldn't bring myself to look at him for weeks and he won't let me forget it to this day.

    Keep your head up, you are worthy and anything and everything you want.