This Is Love, Make It Hurt

As if like clock work, the same memory will appear in both our heads at the same time:

We would text message through the evening about the tight black skirt I was wearing at work, and how easily the buttons undid themselves if I just exhaled far enough. And then it was voice to voice till I drove all that way in the dark to his house in Gainesville. Mindless cahtter until we found our way into the bedroom and I'd collapse from exhaustion. Often times he would rub my feet if I asked him to, and in that (among other things) I knew that his feelings for me exceeded that of mine for him. Next it would be serious questioning about my intentions for the two of us. I knew what I was lacking in my heart so I'd let out a teasing plea for the shower and the next thing we knew, we were naked once agian for almost 72 hours of that entire weekend.

In his mind, he watches with disgust. Disgust over how easily he gave in to me, and what I did once I had his heart. He listens to my voice echo in his mind and he bows his head down in remorse. Lets out a griefing moan before taking sleeping pills to find his way to sleep without dwelling on the past. Before falling asleep he swears he never remembers this face with a smile or any of our memories. And wishes the night we met never was.

In my mind, I smile slightly and wish I hadn't waited around for love thinking it was some contagious flu I would eventually receive through bodily contact. I can't cry the way he does or feel the passionate anger. I've always been too unattatched to his existence and our relationship, that I don't look back on our days and scowl. I used to wish that we never met, but then I wouldn't have grown so much and learned from that experience...

"You don't need to be half way off the cliff to realize that you shouldn't have gone that far over the ledge", he says, "I could have known without you, not to give my life to such a person as you"