Sunday, December 6, 2009

I came to cut you up, I came to knock you down; I came around to tear your little world apart.

I have been over and under it, honey-- I've been subject to its subjectivity, and I've learned to live through, rise above, and overcome. You're gonna be crushed when it ends.

That's also part of the problem: you see things in black and white, with clear beginnings and clearer endings-- yet your vision could not be more clouded. Yeah, you're sweet, maybe even smart, but you are naïve as all hell. It's always ultimatums with you; when he's not around, the world has no color. Life has no meaning without him. He's your fucking inhaler, your wheelchair, your pacemaker. Yet you don't seem to realize that your lungs, your legs, and your heart all worked in perfect synchronicity before you fell prey to his charms. What the hell is wrong with you?

Yeah, I guess I've learned the hard way-- and it looks like you're going to have to, too. It may be that I just can't stand seeing such weakness and impurity of spirit because it reminds me of something I once was. It makes me no better than you, but for some reason, I still feel as though I am; why you, and not I.

Even without my third-party doses of neurotransmitters, I have learned to control my emotions. I can set all thoughts of him to the side until we both have the time to address one another-- and I can function, sweetheart, in his absence. I am a person, not a parasite. I have drive, I am imperfect yet whole; I am growing, I am learning, I am being and becoming.

It's really gonna break your heart.

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