You remind me of a time when I was safe and comfortable, a few friends I used to speak to but only when my words slurred, would I let my secrets out. It’s the only way I know how to care, how to love, if love could be so simple, so shallow… But now I speak with open eyes, a clear mind and the lack of substances in my body makes me unsure of anything, everything. My words are raw, my words are real but there’s a hesitancy that there never was before. When I go out, strangers don’t look my way, anymore. When I was disappearing, everyone noticed. Now that I’ve reappeared, I’m just another face in the crowd.
Falling in love with strangers (pt. 3).
Flying, not floating. It’s obvious from the way I spend just a moment deciding what to wear and I don’t change or fixate on anything for longer than a second or two. Ready? Yes, I’m ready. I’ve been preparing for days. I never thought I’d fly again and it’s been years but tonight - I don’t question it, I don’t think of it, I let it all unfold.
From the moment you asked and you asked and you asked, I knew. Something different, something special and for the first time in my life, my opinion matters. This is it, this is all, everything I’ve ever wanted and I’m no longer afraid to speak.
You’re easy to talk to. I smile and listen but you listen, too and everything seems so beautiful, even in the darkness, even when the stars don’t shine.
I’ve been waiting a long time to do that. I smile and smile and smile and for the first time, it was my choice, too. Mutual and no pressure and I could have easily slipped away but for the first time, it was what we both wanted, not what I wanted because you wanted and not what you wanted because I wanted.
Your voice is soft and your moves are slow and you’ve captured me and I’m enamored. I think I’ve found what I’ve been wanting and every day I choose to be a little less sick and a little more able to love.
Every word spoken is honest and open and I’ve never been part of something so beautiful before.
Falling in love with strangers (pt. 2).
Night after night after night and my body begs for sleep, my heart begs to stay up.
I told myself no, no, no, time and time again and time and time again I had no trouble doing as I said. A week ago and I force myself to expend energy throughout the night engaging in conversations I would normally never have the courage to engage in. Drenched in sweat because I’m up all night: listening, thinking, speaking, repeat. Collapsing on a bed - sober and drained of all the energy I released. I wonder if you’re going to ask but you don’t. The morning comes and I see the next best thing as the screen next to me lights up and I wonder if it’s just me or if it’s you, too.
Days later and I’m still wondering but there are hints abound, hints all around and at the bar again (the only place I’ve never had a drink) and the music’s louder but so is my voice and I’m not afraid to be heard. Hours later and the lights come on and we’re out, freed into the darkness. Words I never thought would form easily flow out of me. A promise of the weekend and I’m satisfied for the night but the evening before rolls around and I roll around and I don’t speak a word, I don’t say anything but I’m smiling and everyone knows. Hours later and I’m eating meals I never thought I’d eat and I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine and there you are and there’s that damn chair between us, always a chair. We keep our distance, a little, a lot. The space between us is greater than the space between us. I watch, I listen, I speak (on occasion) and the end comes near and I swear, my body begs my heart but my heart won’t give in and I’m out, we’re out into the fresh night air and then stuffed into a small space, a million bodies and it’s hot, hot, hot. Stealing glances at the door so often and you notice and we sneak away, for a moment, forever. A midnight breeze, the smell of the wet grass, the dirt that sinks with the weight of my body, the light that’s so bright and there’s not a star in the sky we can see (but I think I see stars in your eyes). Morning, exhausted but still happy, still peaceful and there you are and we reach into ourselves before reaching for fruit and the day is beautiful, perfect, endless, as my eyes still beg to shut over and over again. Wednesday? Because I’m unsure, because I’m never sure and I make sure I’m not clinging to nothing. Monday? Maybe. I realize I’m slowly falling in… Tonight? Yes. I’ve sunk, deeper than I thought I would, deeper than I thought I could and I promised not this year but I never turn down an opportunity when I see that I’m only doing so to hide from the world so tonight I’ll be up, I’ll be out and you’ll be sober (though you’re not a drunk) and the world will be alive.
me: I don’t want to work with food.
me: I’ll tell you later…
Hours of speaking about psychiatry and medical conditions and pills and drugs and alcohol…
Later rolls around and I openly admit that I had an eating disorder.
Blurry eyes, cloudy memories.
Last night was more beautiful than I could ever imagine, will ever admit.
Words carefully strung together with long pauses in-between and it’s painfully obvious that I’ve never been good at small talk but you’re still here.
Music I’m not afraid to share, music I haven’t changed in over a year.
The number of times it’s occurred to me that I haven’t been kissed since December, that it’s been my choice, that I’m no longer afraid to speak up, say no.
Weak and vulnerable but sober, always the most sober.
Screaming that I want to fall in love but screaming to deaf ears, no ears (but my own) and I’ve fully exhausted myself.
I fall asleep anywhere, everywhere.
Don’t think I’ve forgotten you so quickly.
I’m well aware that I’ve likely slipped your mind, already. Days pass and I’m still caught up in the acoustic mess that I’ve left in my car. Boys come and go and recognize a song or two and there’s beauty in that but they don’t see what I’ve shown you.
A stranger asks why I don’t eat at night and the truth is, he’s not a stranger. I play it off, I play everything off as if nothing really matters, everything is fine, fine, fine.
I tell the truth. I tell the truth because I’m sick of covering everything up, sick of lying, sick of pretending it’s not true.
I was in love, once.
No one asks and it’s a lie but it’s a lie I keep on repeating to myself as if someday it might be true, as if someday I’ll accept that I was and something awful happened and it wasn’t my fault and it’s okay but it was and it’s not.
I won’t accept it. I won’t accept it. I won’t accept that I was in love with him or him or him or him because of everything that happened, layers of my skin being pulled off as if pain is part of it, part of something beautiful.
I made the choice. I had the choice between a bar or a restaurant and both sounded like hell, which demon would I choose to face tonight?
No, you don’t understand. The only thing that keeps me sober is a little white chip that I carry around with me, everywhere I go.
This is me being vulnerable, telling you my darkest secrets in the middle of the night, telling you those things I’m afraid to tell anyone else.
Here it is.
Here is everything.
Promise me you won’t be mad, upset. Promise you’ll accept everything as it was. It’s all in the past.
You promised. You claimed to understand everything, everything I had yet to tell you.
I told you. I told you everything.
Whore, you whispered, angrily gritting your teeth.
What? my voice barely above a whisper, I couldn’t quite understand, my sobs were pounding through my head. Had you said what I just thought you said? I couldn’t believe it.
I had just released my heart to you.
You’re a whore, a fucking whore, you yelled.
It’s your fault! You let it happen! You’re a whore!
As if the voice that screamed at me every day wasn’t bad enough, there you were.
I’ve wondered since the night it happened.
Is it my fault? Is it my fault that I never had the chance to say no?
You confirmed my worst fears.
I am nothing. I am yours. I am nothing to you.
Stripped, but not by my own hand.
Naked, but not by choice.
I can’t stop throwing up all the poisons that are in my body. They’ve laid dormant from time to time and I think I’m cured, I think I’m free. I think there’s no more poison inside and then everything spews back up.
All those days I spent drunk, staring at the TV, all the memories resurfaced.
I’ll drink a couple shots to forget his name, a few more to forget what he did…
I’ll drink and drink and drink until I don’t remember my name, I won’t remember all the evil that’s out in this world.
I’ll drink because I’m drunk because I can drink.
I haven’t had a drink since the day our lips touched.
I am nothing. I am yours. I am nothing to you.