I Don't Walk On Water...

You have that person in your life who just loves to give you what I call "emotional fuckwittage"? Well, I have someone like that. My relationship with this person has grown extremely complex, which, to me, is the most dangerous. I characterize it today as a love/hate.

I had grown into the type of person who wore his heart on his sleeve when it came to love and friendship. My relationship with this person involves both. Now, at one point I fell in love with this person's representative. I say his "representative" because I fell for who I thought this person was. In the middle of one of our famous non-physical confrontations, I revealed my feelings. Ever since, I've been feeling like this person has been using my feelings against me. Something tells me he always had.

Now, my feelings are definitely in check now as I've moved on relationship-wise. I'm not gonna say I don't still feel for this person. I think that some feelings never really completely go away.

Now, he has said that he knew my feelings for him before I revealed them, but he was just waiting on me to say something. I personally feel I was led by him. But, that's another blog post.

Today I'm feeling like why does he choose to keep me inside of his web when he's the one who isn't sure how he feels? Like, why even try. This is someone who says he is straight. But, no matter how many times he says it, I believe otherwise. But, I've always respected the boundaries of our friendship until it got to the point where I was tired of pushing my real feelings aside, to make room for someone else's. I've tried to end the friendship many times because of what I've identified as my weakness for this person. Even though today, he's not anyone I would ever allow myself to fall for. But, it's too late for me to fix that, however. But he never lets me end it. He won't let us end.

And I know that this person is my cross to bear. After all, what I'm feeling is not exclusive only to me. Now, I'm not used to feeling like this, but he is a challenge for me to overcome. But until I do, I ask:

Why do you come here when you know I got troubles enough?
Why do you call me when you know I cant answer the phone?

Make me lie when I dont want to
and make someone else some kind of unknowing fool

You make me stay when I should not.
Are you so strong or is the weakness in me?

By the way, you're not that strong. Must be me...

Just like a star across my sky,
Just like an angel off the page,
You have appeared to my life,
Feel like I'll never be the same,
Just like a song in my heart,
Just like oil on my hands.

I love this song. Sometimes you're just in love with someone and no matter what you just resign. They may be right for you. They may be wrong. But...what are you going to do? You're stuck with the feeling. Thanks Corrine.

I awaited the phone's ring. It always rings.

I am an addict. That is how I choose to characterize myself. Even if I did not completely believe it.

I glance upward towards the sky, inhaling the city air. The night agrees with me. I exhale, surrendering the guilt in an effort not to feel. I always have a problem admitting when I am wrong.

I surrender to the silence and the voices grow louder. I pretend not to listen.

I casually walk the sidewalk barely missing the E train. I attach my headphones to my ear and tilt my head back. The moon says it's after midnight.

The wind carries her last words. I shiver at the sound.

I loved you.

I know better. I keep reminding myself. Pretending that I don't notice the difference in her change in tense. I ponder as the night remains.

The E train stutters to a halt. I board keeping my eyes low. The scrutinizing silence is always too familiar.

I sit in the back. I look to the left at a couple's playful banter. To the right to another locked in an affectionate embrace. I cut my eyes, pull my jacket tighter.

The city passes in a blur. Unmoving. Still. The night remains; hesitating, stubborn. It's teaching a lesson I don't want to learn. It refuses to leave quietly, instead it prefers to burn. As if it knew what tomorrow would bring. Like a child sent to his room to await his punishment, it too, did not want to surrender.

I pictured her face. The look she gave. The questions her eyes asked, but did not give voice. Questions that she deserved an answer to. Questions that she knew the answer to.

Who are you?

She wanted to know. I sometimes wonder how I can tell you if I do not know myself. Or maybe I do. Maybe the difficult part is the acknowledgment. But not to others. I wonder if they can see my colors and it is I who remain blind. Blind to my own lies.

Or is it shame? You know, there's always a shame to resigning. Is what I am what I really am?

i sigh. It's the scarlet to my letter.

Or maybe an inhibition of freedom.

I have needs. She has to understand. Isn't it just apart -- of what it means to be a man?

Yet there is something within me that makes me okay with the hurt I dispense. I'm still thinking of her and her love. For me? Exactly why had it made its descent. Tonight. Again.

In her mind.

My room is dark. It is always dark. I stare at the cat in the window across the street. It is a game we always play. He disappears at first light. I want him to stay and play. I open the window. I am greeted by a quiet street. The solace is too loud.

I take off my clothes. I lay in my bed. The colors in the room are painted a comforting shade of mohogany black. I close my eyes. The silence still hurts.

I won't be tied down.

She'd heard it before. Not exactly what she wanted to hear as I share her pillow once more. Her silence is always the same. I pretend I don't notice as she grabs what can never be hers. Or mine. She kills herself each time. I turn a blind eye.

How could someone let themselves fall for me? I often ask myself. I am not projecting. I am not one of a kind. I am just attentive. I am caring. I listen. I put in the time.

But. I do have a problem admitting when I may be wrong.

It is not me. It is her.

I lay awake.

I never said I loved you.

I mull my last words to her. Sleep decides not to visit me tonight. So, I await the phone's ring.

It always rings.