I have to admit that I was selfish... expecting that you will express at least something as a response to my silence.
Like children we are. Funny… we used to be so grown up when we were together… now, since I departed… it is like we went back to the past, at least ten years to it… making silence treatment to each other instead talking things through… as we used to do…
This afternoon I took myself liberty to sleep… again… closed my eyes as I went deeper into the pillow… and something took me back to out first night together… I could almost feel your fingertips on my forehead, nose… down to the chin… your breath trapped in my hair… I almost could feel your presence… next to me… and that fucking scent of your body, hunting me down for days now… and it hurt… it really did… the pain came unexpectedly and it was real… physical one… like something grabbed me and made every single nerve in me twist underneath the skin… I hated you at that moment… and I wanted you… badly…
I am learning how to function on parallel tracks… the consciousness one which is still effective… concentrated and worth of money they pay me to do my job… and that other one, which enjoys using your language in stupid feeling that it makes me closer to you… when the job is done… I sit quietly since there is nothing I want to say…to anyone around me. Luckily I still have that job so I won’t forget to talk…
You would be very ashamed of me to know this, I know… you would tell me awful things, forcing me to take part in my own life… but, the thing you don’t know is that this IS my life… since I came back… it is not worth pretending that I am interested in belonging to anything, that I wish for meaningful conversations with people… I don’t. I really, really don’t.
Most of the times I just want them to leave me alone so I can sleep. Not cry or think how miserable I am (I had my share of those already)… but just sleep, and oversleep my own time… and wake up one morning as a completely new person… or if that cannot be… never to wake up…
I hate fairy tales. Reasonable part of me knows that those do not exist. So, when someone tries to comfort me by offering an illusion or a fairy tale… I smile, quietly… but I scream inside… I scream loudly: Stop! Stop that shit! What fairy tale!? Fairy tales do not exist! That is why they’re called fairy tales! They do not exist! Do you hear me? They do not exist! They are just wide spread because of people, desperate people in need of hope, in need to believe…like religions… like ideologies… they are there to provide false feeling of “it has to be okay”… and it doesn’t… it doesn’t have to be okay…and it never is…
But I stay quiet… wishing that at last once I can also make myself believe and try if this “people medicine” actually does something on that other level of perception…since mine is terribly cruel.
You are not Prince Charming. At all. You are not that good looking… nor you are the smartest person ever, you are sometimes awfully immature and you knew how to make me crazy with certain observations. You are not Prince Charming… and I am not a Princess either. I am quite aware of that fact!
You know what else? You are not my type either… you never were… and you knew that. Statistically you should have been completely different. Wild. Mysterious. Bitter. Male bitch. You should have been experienced and protective. And you are not. Not. Not. Not.
So, let’s see… we know that fairy tales do not exist, that you are not Prince Charming, that you are not my type of the guy… hmmmmmm… well, yes, sex was great, and I enjoyed talking to you, I really did… but it cannot be that there are not better lovers or more interesting people. Okay, you did make me feel unique and feminine and safe… but I can always hire a fool, a waiter and a bodyguard for that. So you are nothing special…
Neither am I.
Than, why the hell I feel like this? I am not used to it. I don’t want it. Take it away. Remove it. As you infiltrated-now remove it! Remove completely out of my system. I don’t want you… I never wanted this. I wasn’t the one staying home wishing for a perfect match… I wasn’t the one making plans for marriage and wedding dress and three kids jumping around kitchen in couple of years. I wasn’t that person… never ever… so, please, remove those shaming feelings out of me.
I hate you tonight. I hate you with all my forces. And even more I hate myself…