Just Friends
Self-obsessed with feelings,
If only they truly could be expressed in a manner in which they could be understood by another.
I would tell you, that you are hurting for the one that left; she was not happy. That now, she has realized what she has lost, a family, a foundation, a friend.
I would tell you, that though I smile and say I had set no expectations, I was hoping that perhaps you would hold my hand, and walk with me side by side down the street. That We would cook dinner, and our children would play while we all watched a movie on Friday night. That some semblance of normality would consume our lives.
Rebound.
Honesty.
You tucked my hair away from my face, you smiled and brought me to your friends and family and they took me in as your friend with grins, you had healed. Now, confused, you push me away saying that you do not want to lead me on. I understand.
I want you to know, that I understand. That I am your friend, then and now.
My wall...is up. It always will be because it hurts too much to let anyone in. Then I sit, and I write about nothing yet everything and it still will not make sense. I write for myself.
The other, the one you ask about. He hurt me, and I, being my vindictive self, have made it my goal to help him realize how selfish he was in doing so. He unsuccessfully tried to quell my fury, my passion, an impossible feat.
Am I being selfish? In removing him from our sons life? My sons life?
No. My thoughts yell at me from inside the walls of my mind. it's falling apart; my mind. I can picture the inner walls, dripping with ideas, they no longer fly from side to side creating brilliant flashes of light that create beautiful pictures within. Instead, they slowly drip down into an emptiness, a blackness within the confines of my soul; wherever that might be. I don't bother to catch them, they were a waste of thought, time, space...something.
I'm officially stuck in this moment. Please help me move forward.
