Every day went nicely, an act of willpower. And then, as the day wore on and my resolve weakened, eventually I would need to be alone again. The furious sadness would well up inside me, consume me, until there was little left of
me. I screamed, I cried, I collapsed into dreamless unconciousness. Solace gained through nothingness, the only refuge I truly posess for agony.
Seventy five days, or some such, that's what I said to myself. In other terms, mind you, but still. Let's give this a shot. I was going to impose a new deadline, but I couldn't, I won't do it alone again. But neither do I gamble. Sometimes I even wonder if you understand the question, ill-defined as it is, but that's hardly my doing. I want it, but it may not exist. That's precisely the problem.
I saw you, face framed in curls as always, bundled against the cold. You persist at the corners of my relationships, between the cracks of my love. I know there is a little piece of you that's mine, a sliver for a tall boy. And, erratic as that is, it's something. Definition, which I've been a bit without as of late. But I wouldn't say hello, didn't run across, it wouldn't be right. I have my own miseries to contend with. They don't involve you.
I missed the eyes of two others that evening, I simply don't have it in me to say Hello. I am lonely, but as I have said before, loneliness is for a particular person, and anything else merely prolongs the inevitable.
Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: Wax Tailor - Hypnosis Theme (on official site)
