Fell Down

You read real well, yeah, you’ve got this wonderful falling-in-love taste that goes with your romantic gestures and incredibly sweet charm that I find irresistible all-round. So how come I’m doubting you now? Because you’re so far away and I’m so fucked up, on medications made from swans and mossy herbs? Or because lately you treated me like previous boys have? But you’re not a boy, I remind myself, you’re a man, a real man. Who says ‘I love you’, but lately, I haven’t been feelin’ it. Why can’t I say that to you? I’m afraid of your reaction. John Lennon tells me I don’t need to be afraid, cuz it’s real love, yeah it’s real love, but I am outright TERRIFIED. What happens if we split up? I given so much to you, and I think I’d end up loving you forever. A year isn’t forever, but it’s the longest I’ve ever had. I want you in my life, your family, your ideas your screams your moans of pleasure your laugh your criticism your anger your self esteem issues I want it all because I want you. But you won’t talk to me right now. Probably because I’m overreactive. Which is true, I’m told that all the time. I’m nervous and edgy and cut to conclusion too fast before anyone’s even made a fucking decision. But, apparently, you love me. Why do I doubt you? Because you’re busy. Because you’re not  constantly supporting me, like you needed to when I was depressed 24/7. Those were dark times we got through. But I need you now, like I did then. But you’re a college student. But I WANT YOU, OKAY? ALL FOR MYSELF, ALL THE TIME, WITH EVERY FIBER OF WHO I AM. Yes, I am selfish. But do you want me that bad? Seriously? If I’m not with you I picture myself getting hurt. If nothing wants to hurt me, I’ll do it. I see a shadow in a corner crying with neon lights in the background advertising cigarettes. It’s funny, I often think and say I don’t want pity from anyone, no concerned faces near me, but I do. Kind of. I want someone to reach out and notice. I don’t really want to have to tell. Like when I told you my deepest darkest secret. That maybe it was abuse I inflicted on myself. That I was terrified for anyone to know. But you’re the only one who knows.
Really, you’re the only one who ever did.
But these doubts I know are ridiculous, they/’re just momentary feelings that will soon be stifled by you. Being in my arms. For the first time in six months. But I worry until wrinkles envelope my skin and make my features disappear. I’m a good actress, but not in real life. In real life I am as obvious as white against black. I don’t know how the world will turn out,
But I hope I face it with you.