The Explanation

Part Two, In Which Confusion Increases

I know I've run out of chances.

I can feel you fading, feel the heat in each new argument,

know it's not long before you leave.

You'll leave.

Oh, you won't walk away, but

that wonderful part of you

- the part that is mine -

will disappear.

You are growing weary.

And so you will leave.

There is no need for apologies,

no need for reassurance,

no need.

It is inevitable, you leaving.

Inevitable because of me.

I cannot take back my words,

actions.

I wish there were

some magical hidden truth,

some secret,

some explanation to make you stay.

But the words that fall from my lips

have the feel of bare excuses,

wild ideas

that hold truth but are

unacceptable.

And so you will leave.

Why does this hurt?  It shouldn't.

I should not feel the need for tears

- which thankfully cannot fall.

You are allowed to leave.

I said it was okay.

I'm fine.

I'll get over it.

It's my fault.

Now I'm getting scared, because

I fear I may have lied.

But that does not matter.

I don't know why, but it doesn't.

It is not my right to make it stop

hurting, anyway.