Off the fence

There's something wrong.

Something is wrong because I am pretty damn sure it's not supposed to feel that way, right? Unless happiness is a big hot stew of sadness, weakness, worries and faltering.

It is not for lack of trying. I am in love. I guess. At least I think that's how it feels like, what it means, right?
Right?
But we're pieces of work. And it's hard to deal with my shit when I have to deal with yours simultaneously. I know I love seeing my life as a giant roller-coaster, figuratively. I did not expect it to be so heavy on goosebumps.
I'm about to throw up this relationship.

True, I am very demanding. It sure takes a toll, on both of us. But how about the why, eh? Why did it have to be this way?
You dragged me through the dirt for everyone to see, you gave me the cold shoulder one too many times when I tried to get back on my feet. You never squandered an opportunity to show me how less of a man I was than the others.
And if it were just that, but let's be honest for a second
My feelings are not the only things you're hurting.

Yet I love you. Because you are flawed, and I seem to be inexplicably attracted to your flaws. Degausser, anyone? Birds of a feather, or so I've heard.
But if I've been good enough to play pretend and make believe for you, I for one can see how big a farce it is. We're going nowhere fast honey. And with no support I don't really know how I'm going to turn the tables. Especially if you're turning a blind eye on me.

I don't feel too good. I am not as happy as I want you to believe I am. It may just be that I need more time, but I've been thinking that for months now and I'm starting to lose hope.
The most difficult may be that in your eyes, we work fine. We're living on different planes, and truth be told, I am jealous of yours.

I would love to love you without all the loathing. I am well aware I am a handful. And I think I believe you when you say you love me.
I think so.
That does not sound right. I should know that, it should be a commandment forged into my soul. Yet it's just an elusive butterfly, unwilling to dwell on my heart for too long.

I'm tired. In a matter of days I've gone from certain I wanted us to work to definitive about splitting up at least a dozen times. It's not that I don't know what I want.
I just don't understand us.

Your love at times feels so real, and then comes the moment you crush everything, regardless of anything. And I'm left here bleeding.
But you don't care much.

I'm supposed to come back in two days. I should be home in 48 hours, almost to the minute. Yet I cannot even feel sure you're gonna be there. I cannot talk myself into believing you won't have called it quits by then, or slept in anyone else's bed. It is not even that I don't trust you.
I just don't trust that we are on the same page.

You caught me in your web. I wanted us to see where things'd go. But you started giving me hope, glimpses of a future, of a together. Of a life.
Now you're not giving shit and I don't know on which leg to stand. It's getting out of hand on my side, while things look still on yours.
How come we are not going through the same story?

Maybe in two days this will be a distant memory. For a week. Because it starts again.
I'm going in circles.

I don't feel too good. And I withstand it out of real love. Or at least what I think is real love.
I'm not even sure I know what I am talking about.

I ventured into the unknown, and unbeknownst to me I was not to wander alone. But I knew before even going over the fence that it would not end well. You as well, since the first thing you told me was that you were sorry about how much you were gonna hurt me.
And that's fine, I expected to hurt in the end anyways.
Not so much so before.

I would like to hide behind rational nonsense, that we are not a fit, that you are no right for me. Who is right for anyone anyway? Human beings, we're screwups; we won't ever fit. Square pegs in round holes.
We just try as hard as we can.
I try to try,

I've been outside my comfort zone for a little too long, my feelings tank is almost empty. There's no way out. If I don't find a way to replenish them, what will become of me? A stray astronaut, floating around in outer space without a way to come down home. You're the last one. I've had enough, I won't have enough courage and determination for one more try. I'm out of coins. Now it's up to you to see how many continues there are in store.

For all I know we might already be done for. For like, an hour and half. For all I know, tomorrow it may just be a bad dream and we'll still be going strong.
For all I know, I don't know shit.

I know that I think I love you. I know that I love you in fact, I just think I know what love means.
But I do love you, and it's hard when you don't even know if it's too early or too late for that.



There has been but one staple however. Whenever I feel like I'm digging our grave, you pull me back up with some awesome text, or a lovely call.

Anytime now.
Anytime.
Just a few more seconds...

...

Oh well.