Evasion

The Evolution of US

Onions and Grammar

I still remember feeling nervous, trying to fight my words through sealed-shut lips. My mind, however, floating in its usual state of uneasiness, showing no signs of slowing down. Looking back, I now wonder, how can someone experiencing these many thoughts reduce herself to head signals with an averted gaze. A nod of approval of this random statement close enough to her own. Even if not close at all.

I never expected you to read my mind. If only such wizardry was possible. I couldn't be mad at you for not seeing right through me, especially when I make myself this hard to read. Yet somehow, in some impossible way, I guess I did.

Coming to end in such a draining lustrum of months I have finally found myself with no remaining power to cover my emotions. Confronted by reality, and the fact that I can no longer deny my involvement with issues of the heart, I have no choice but to conclude that I am disappointed. But mostly, disappointed in me.

Disappointed for being so cold yet not having the strength to leave us. knowing there's no use to throw one's self at such arrangements when in the end they are clearly never enough to wage or salvage. I have once lived depressed and cried to sleep in empty beds, but I have sworn it is not the best my life would get.

Tonight, as I find myself in osmosis-like movement through feelings and memory, I am finally ready to forgive myself for being human. But most importantly, ready to forgive me for giving my endearments' ownership to you.

I may not understand the reasons why I want you in my life. After so much deliberation I have found that scales tip and lists overflow with negatives. In my case, I would be better off with no serious attachments, my future would be brighter and wider in options. To be completely honest, I would even be relieved.

But I have no wish to be relieved, if not with you.

I make no sense in this letter, I usually don't. But you make sense of me, and you give me worth. I love you selfishly, and I hope you can love me this selfishly too. (two "o's")

Set me Free

I am the type of person that carries a lighter in case a stranger approaches troubled to light up their smoke.

Someone I love said they love that about me.

That they love me because of it.

They say I am amazing because I don't need it, but I keep it with me in the off chance someone I don't know asks me if I can help.

But then when they need a flame...they don't want to use my lighter.

Hurtful... What is so wrong about a light that one finds so outstandingly amazing yet refuses to let it burn?

And then gets mad when I entertain the idea of letting someone else take it...

I didn't want someone else to have it though... I was outspoken about that.

I couldn't stand still with someone who won't get close enough because they are afraid to get burnt. I am vocal about that too.

They idolize my flame, strong, colourful, intoxicating.... so much so that they want it all for themselves...

I offered. They said no.

So I have this lighter, full of gas, new and soft... sturdy through blowing winds, sparks a mesmerising flame that can warm you to the bone

.... but I can't use it.

The blunt I want to light up doesn't want to be lit by me. And it doesn't want me to light anyone else's.