literature

I Stopped And Rewound

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k1haku's avatar
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Literature Text

You . . . I stopped wondering about you two seconds ago.  I started wondering about another the second after two seconds ago.  I would wake up every morning thinking what was it that I'm supposed to be glad about—every morning since I've known you.  I used to look at your picture and say, "You."  But not anymore.  It was my fault.  I didn't turn when you called my name in that room with the old piano, because I couldn't feel anything.  I was tired.  Just plain tired.

People thought I was being selfish when I was simply trying to be happy, so I started to please everybody; however, everybody wasn't very easy to please—I was still selfish in every direction.  Long time ago, I had a friend who would listen to my attempts of understanding me, and then he stopped because he couldn't deal with all my changes that I've come to learn while being with you.  I thought the changes were great, but I ended up being confused.  Pardon me for digging for myself.

I started wondering about another the second after two seconds, and that made me smile.  He made me smile.  That smile I had the first we were walking in the parking lot while snowing; you hugged me and whispered those three words that I couldn't even say because of guilt and pain.  Again, he made me smile, when I couldn't because of the way you made me feel.  You made me feel loved but forgot I'm a woman.

My mistakes.  I sculpted them upon my skin using my nails because I didn't want to forget about them.  It reminded me of my emotions that seemed to disintegrate with the air I'm breathing.  Digging, scratching, doing it all over again—the cycles that have always helped me feel like I'm alive.

Now, I'm tired.  Plain tired . . .
...just because I can't say it, you're right; but now that I can, it doesn't mean I'm blaming you. I just want you to see it.

:faint:
© 2012 - 2024 k1haku
Comments6
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Nearlight's avatar
Haha, I came here to show someone your excellent eye-drawing (remembered how good they were) and found myself reading this. It's really well-written and humbling. I still remember some of this, mostly how I was never a good communicator. What you wrote here isn't how I felt or what I wanted from you, but I understand you feeling this way. I never expected more than you just being you. It is what it is, though, and we grow up. Sorry for the hurtful comments I left.