M I G R A C I Ó N شارمين

I bet he’d be shocked if he knew I cared this much. It's not an I’m in love with you boo I’m heartbroken thing. It's a I’ve always wanted to cook with you and drink wine and take pictures of you and fuck you type of feeling. Make fun of people together and laugh. But I don’t think I’m stylish enough for him to be seen with anyway.  

I’m hurt by what he said but it’s nothing new. It’s been rehearsed and repeated hundreds of times. It’s like an old VHS tape that continues to get rewound and replayed over and over again but finally after all of these years the images on the tape are fading and the it’s mostly grainy. It doesn’t look the same but the feeling is still there. The feeling of sadness I feel toward myself after hearing what he says has started to float away and has ended up somewhere else entirely. Now the sadness is almost deeper, the cut is no longer subcutaneous, it’s part of me and running through my bloodstream. I’m sad because instead of being happy that I’m happy, that I’m alive, that I’m not in jail or in rehab he chooses to fixate on the fact that I don’t fit into his idea of success. I’m sad and scared that he will die with that resentment, that anger, that image of me as the loser he says I am. It should only matter what I think but all of my growth and everything I’ve learned and taught myself in these years becomes second to the sadness I feel knowing how much time and energy he wastes when we could both accept we have different ideas life and what makes a person successful.