Friday, February 26, 2010


I don't have a list for you. I don't trust you. I think you mean something else with every word you say. It seems like you are slowly laying a trap that will spring shut at any moment. It makes me feel uneasy and suspicious. I wish you would just go away somewhere and not come back. I can't see the good anymore. I tried. I tried. I tried. But now the thought of you is a sickness in my stomach. A catch in my breath. I'm waiting for the horrible, horrible thing to happen. I hope it never does, but even the waiting is unbearable. I don't like uncertainty. I would rather see the horror then wait and wait for it to appear. I can't start dealing with it until it happens.

I don't have a list for you. I used to. I remember the good things I thought you were. Where have they gone? Perhaps they were fabricated. Perhaps they are still there and I am blinded by my own mistrust. I miss the rose-colored glasses sometimes.

I don't have a list for you. And I would really, really like to like you.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Sometimes, when people are hurt, they will say just a few things to hurt you back. And sometimes, those few things will make you question everything done in the past, when in fact everything in the past may have been genuine. Don't overanalyze too much; it will drive you bonkers.