Inconsistency is a curse. Spontaneous outbursts of the mind, rationalizing the heart. Trusting is a bliss, when it is proven that you can trust. This world is a complete joke. He questions his own choices every minute before falling asleep. Can't fall asleep many times. Is this what a functional adult looks like? Because he'd rather cut dead this bullshit he didn't signed for. He cannot stand the loose end of his hand. Writing for a matter of mindfulness. Everything regarding feelings might hurt, might burn the paper. "I will work towards my goal, so I can support my future, my love, the family I dream of having", but everything is futile.
He left the chat. He left at crucial points in her life. He trembled, instead of embracing and loving. He accused, got invalid information, thought it's real. He hated her. He betrayed himself in other arms. He cried his eyes out, because this is not what he is. Punishing the own skin and matter for a unreachable matter. The introspected material of the other ones matter stitched onto his soul and mind, like nothing else. It feels like he could never wash her away, as many showers he takes, as many beers he drinks, as many words he keep writing, as many achievements he has, as much as he works. He fails, he stands up, work out, exercise mindfulness, motivation, assertiveness, empathy, self worth. Podcasts, cinema, music, photography, animations. Lies, lies, lies. Books, magazines, information, rolling over and over.
Somewhere, somehow, he's missing the main point. Someday, some way, he's going to be so famous, she'll see him everywhere. She's going to scroll on her phone, only to see him everywhere. Maybe like this, maybe, she'll see him everywhere as he sees her in himself at any time. At so many innapropiate times. At times when he is rewarded. At times when he is performing on-stage. Somehow, that amount of information will be about him, a reward of his hardwork. He will make it, only to achieve inner peace, but how the fuck is this possible, if every fiber of her being is, in fact, that will power?
It is said that "don't rely on other people in order to be happy", but he knows this is not the case! He doesn't rely on her. He knows that he's happily doing his things. He knows that hardword is the key to succes. He's the I-know-it-all, but he knows so, so little about himself.
He asked himself if this is infatuation? Obsession? Psychologically, some instability? No. Is this something unreal? Maybe. Could this vanish? He thinks it could, but it doesn't vanish completely. He could have been far away from the thought of her, but somehow, she strikes in like an unsuspected bullet.
Who is her and why? Who is him and why? Who are they? Is this love? How is this love? Why does he hates her? Why does he love her so much? Why? Where is the point? Where is the rational part here? Is he mental? Is he going nuts?
They say that he's so kind, warm, but so, so cold. His psychologist said that it could be because of that one, the one he exposed himself to, emotionally, mentally. "The perfect relationship", but he found love right there, in that fucking camp. He tamed every tad bit, so he wouldn't be unfaithful. But he was. He fell for her mind, her heart, her being.
She asked him, one year ago, "why didn't we had it back then in the camp?". Because I trusted you. Because I trusted the fact that if I did that, I'd completely lose myself to you. I wanted it so much, but I wanted to tease the shit out of you. Because I wanted you more than anything. Because I delay such delights in my life. Because I worked for the things I wanted. Ever. Because I still do. Because I wanted to show you more of what I am. Because I had this fugitive thought at that time that you won't like me. Because I was frightened. Because I wasn't shaved. Because, because, because. Because, although I trusted you, I thought that you'll fuck me and leave me.
But you left anyway, so we could've had it as well at that time. No long term anything, no nothing.
I find myself dreaming of you when I don't consciously think about you. I fall in love with people, only for you to pop up in my mind and fuck everything up. Only to remind me, maybe, that you are the one I truly love.
I get all of this lessons, only so I could raise, get elevated, get in touch with my inner selves. There are many and they all agree on one thing: you couldn't dissappear. They won't tell me why. So I keep distracting myself, get new projects to work on. Read as a matter of imagination and knowledge.
I dreamt of you, shouting my name and I couldn't find you anywhere. I only found myself soaking the pillow in the morning.
If you ever read this, tell me that you hate me, tell me I'm worthless, tell me that "everything passed", we were teens, it was a mistake. Tell me anything, because I cannot stop believing that you are the most perfect one, the one I trust so deeply, the one I'd happily move in right now, the one to sustain a family with. Tell me I'm an idiot, that I'm desillusional, that I did this and that, that I'm bipolar, that I'm mental, that I'm broken. Tell me I'm not ready for a relationship, as you did back then, because you were scared of that love, regarding that time. Tell me anything you want. I could only release you if I die. Tell me anything, because I am already strong enough to bear and learn. Tell me I'm a crybaby, only to tell you that intimacy scares the shit out of you --- I tell myself in the mirror.
But what have I realized? This all is productive. This is giving me willpower. This is my life and you're a big part of it, although I don't want it like this, although you have no idea of this, although you don't care, although I can't commit to anyone, but you. Because I couldn't commit to anyone, but you.
Because if you really wanted something loyal, I was that something. If you wanted someone to hold you tenderly and all of your secrets deep beneath, I was that one. Because I am stubborn, I don't action as I speak, but I show my affection and I work accordingly IF you show me that I can trust you.
I showed you my affection in my most pure ways and you accused me of not doing anything. I will never forget it, dude.
But that won't bring me down. It did, but I grew up. Everything I have is my work and my puns and, deep down, without anyone seeing it, I hold you. And I love you. And do everything you would enjoy.
