We would watch our show together.
Every Tuesday.
That was before I started going to Dad's house to get away from her boyfriend.
It was called Glee, and we were both hooked.
But we don't watch it any more.
She keeps trying to start a series with me, but I won't let it work.
Watching a series with someone means commitment.
She doesn't understand me.
She doesn't understand how I deal with things that hurt.
Or how I don't deal with them.
I call it emotional detachment.
Slowly separating myself.
Slowly adding those sarcastic remarks and too-long silences that she missed.
Soon enough she'll be back at my bedroom door, forcing her way in.
She'll be scared I'm going to hurt myself, but that won't be the case this time.
No, detachment is different than my previous depression.
I'll become distant.
Then when it's time for me to leave...neither of us will notice the difference.
Subconsciously something will change.
Our hearts will begin to beat in the foreign patterns of two people emotionally detached.
If I play it right, I may even be able to achieve numbness for the both of us.
It takes practice in the area of emotion control to achieve numbness, but I've been manipulating my emotions for years.
I mean, how else would I be able to smile right now?
