Air Conditioning

Scars

Sleep is such an easy escape.

Too easy. I've taught myself just how to slip into it, conditioned myself to sleep when I sing a certain song in my head, it's so so easy.

Too. Easy.

Too easy when tomorrow I have to face judgemental assholes who I want to love me like family,

Too easy when tomorrow I have to act like a toddler and work through my 'big feelings' by shoving them down,

Too easy when there was someone I thought understood me who turns out? They don't.

They think they do, but they don't.

No one really does.

And so I feel alone again, no one on the same plane as me. It was so easy to snap out of it, all it took was a single turn of phrase, a couple of assumptions about me, and then there I am again.

Alone. Again.

It's selfishness, I know, that drove them to making me feel this familiar feeling again.

I know they're being selfish, and it hurts even more because I know, and I understand more than anyone I can think of.

Selfishness is a sad thing in the pit of the soul, driven by fear.

Fear of what I feel right now, fear of what I've felt for a long time and should have never stopped feeling.

A fear of feeling alone, like no one can understand you and like your problems are so unbearably unique that no one can quite match them and comprehend them.

And it's okay.

I've already accepted it again.

You have what you asked for. Why don't you want it? Why are you so afraid of it?

You don't realize that this is what you wanted. But it is.

It was nice, living life like I wasn't alone anymore. Like someone was on the same wavelength. But all it took was a couple of words and assumptions for me to realize you don't see me. You see what you want me to be.

And I'm going to let you.

So why do you act so afraid? Why do you care so much?

I care about you. But I know now I'm not understood by you. And no matter what I say I won't be.

So goodnight. And sleep well. And let me lie awake stewing like this because of course you don't understand, and it was stupid of me to ever think you did.

It hurts. But I can't give it the time it needs to heal,

So it will join all the countless, deep, gouged wounds all over my body,

And they will weep silently, spilling pain that I can ignore and influence that I can't,

And I will be alone again.

I long for the day I can learn to stitch these weeping wounds.

Maybe then they won't leave such terrible scars.