The fewer relationships you have, the more each one seems to haunt you.
I woke up the other morning to realize that I couldn't FATHOM a relationship that was NOT centered in pain.
I attempted to plot out a relationship that would GIVE me things, rather than be defined by absences. I say plot, like a lighting plot, not a script, because all I could plot were straight lines. Easy words, "happy", "warm", "thoughtful", but I faltered at every detail. Nothing beyond a stick figure for the man of my dreams.
You were there, floating in the distance, as you always are, sometimes closer than at other times. Bewildered at the humans below, just as I am here amid them.
I wished I could hold you. But I had him instead, and it was nice. For the short time it lasted. (He has his own details which I'm not too eager to explore-yet)
It's nice to keep him as a stick figure. Captured, like a butterfly for study. Beautiful images. (I can NOT ask him for emotions, and whatever I ask, he will never be able to give. By definition, I ask the impossible.)
I woke up the other morning to realize that I couldn't FATHOM a relationship that was NOT centered in pain.
I attempted to plot out a relationship that would GIVE me things, rather than be defined by absences. I say plot, like a lighting plot, not a script, because all I could plot were straight lines. Easy words, "happy", "warm", "thoughtful", but I faltered at every detail. Nothing beyond a stick figure for the man of my dreams.
You were there, floating in the distance, as you always are, sometimes closer than at other times. Bewildered at the humans below, just as I am here amid them.
I wished I could hold you. But I had him instead, and it was nice. For the short time it lasted. (He has his own details which I'm not too eager to explore-yet)
It's nice to keep him as a stick figure. Captured, like a butterfly for study. Beautiful images. (I can NOT ask him for emotions, and whatever I ask, he will never be able to give. By definition, I ask the impossible.)
