For You Again

26 January 2016

     It is all so vivid, the day I fell into a toxic love with this reality that I've created.  I'd say I've always been idealistic enough to believe that I am the inventor of it all because I cannot seem to remember a time that I didn't endlessly pray for the chaos to leave me never, and I believe that my intentions stole my innocence  before the violence of growth ever could.  It was as if my awareness was my downfall as I would sit in physics class with a mind open for discovery but only ever finding myself comparing the entropy of the universe to our tragic love.  When I look back on this day, my soul feels as backwards as my mind as I reason through a collidescope of memories each more colorful and distant than the last.  Our every experience and each interval between both comfort and haunt me because I cannot linearize the commotion that staggers me when I think of the charisma in his voice when it forms my name, or the bottles shattered on the ground that shattered my plans, dizzying me into a twirl of madness, or the fingers on his hands through my hair and my lips on your skin after salty kisses, or all of his shouting that was and always will be louder in my head, or the tears beneath the faucet of my bathtub, or the nights of staring into the cloudy eyes of all who are lost, wondering how we ever allowed ourselves to be so alone, but I know that it was all done in his name.  It is the same name that has made the sun seem to bright since that first day.  I sometimes squint my eyes and aimlessly look around at all the art that it has illuminated and I somehow miss the white hot heat that unsettles my insides.  It is the same name that made a little girl write a poem about a wavering ocean so vast and deep that she blamed herself for its immensity.  It was the same name that made me an enemy of that little girl because I loathed my dependency on the romance of nature to bring him back to me.  It was the same name that made me burn the poem as if the ashes would ever disintegrate from my mind.  It way the same name that dressed me in sparkles and dark make-up for New Years Eve to be a party girl for the night only to find myself loving him at midnight for a charming third year.  At the darkest hour of the night that I first entered his presence it would be the last time that my heart would ever belong to me.  I was oblivious then to the darkness in the magic that the spell of indecision casted on me, and for that I would never recover my ability to choose.  I now only ever slip briskly in and out of consciousness becoming so obsessed with freedom and the destruction I feel after I fail to maintain it, but I still pray that God would give me enough strength to gracefully let go of that which was not meant for me, including him.  It is only by grace that I will ever feel free for the first time since I entered this fantasy that has been my reality ever since the day I first fell for him.  I haven't gotten up since.