that "and now what" feeling

Its a gorgeous day but I don't want to get up. Some days I just want to watch tv and hide. Hide from the world, and who I am and my so called problems. Part of me hates me for it. The juxtaposition of the maniac and the recluse, gemini cancer. I could say the stars did it but its in my biology...here's the dirty truth. Sometimes the girls in my family just don't get up. We get low, for a little while, we'll get back up I think, but its not just me.
I've taken to saying out loud my feelings into the emptiness of my apartment...the quietness of my car...Its an effort to start saying them at all. I miss you. The flickering streetlights of this neighborhood at two am know darker secrets than I ever told you. Healing is a funny thing. It's a beautiful word with beautiful connotations but I'm finding the process is almost ugly. Twisted. There is nothing strong about healing, nothing stoic. This slow unwind is uncomfortable, and hardly gratifying at times. I am still many things I believe myself to be. Strong and stoic are qualities I adopted by default. Because somebody had to keep it together. And now I just come off as cold. Icy and unspoken, breath a foggy mist on a single window pane. I start talking and my brain screams, my mouth becomes the vacuum trying desperately to suck back in the words I just let out...trying to rewind. I worry that if you're dead...If I let you be dead...I'll be dead too. Healing is hard because it means letting go, not only of what has happened, or who happened, but who they made you. Who you are because they happened. Who you have been being. 
I'm starting to see myself. 

Gone Fishing

Sometimes you are so reckless. Hey, little wonder. Like a record on repeat, the same song plays over and over, and you keep listening and making the same mistake every time. I'm pretty sure you've got a temper on you...one you never showed me. I never incited it. I'm pretty sure you walk through this life cold, cold skin, cold smile...the heat that keeps you alive comes from inside. And your focus, like a magnifying glass on the unlucky leaf that has caught your attention, keeps that flame burning, fire sign.

Am I too blame? No, not really. But I, like a woman, played with your head. Unintentionally. I am the one that dangled the bait right above your head, and you couldn't take it. You've been caught too many times before.
You knew something you believed I did not. That my honesty, however poignant, however true, was fleeting. You know that the truth morphs in time. You knew I am a butterfly, today something, tomorrow something else. I felt that, when I told you to go and you stayed. You should have gone, you should have run. You knew you would. But for a moment, you stayed, and like always, I knew what you could never say. That the only part left to catch had been caught. It just wasn't enough anymore. Somewhere along the line, you promised never to taste the bait again. And there was nothing I could ever do about it.

There is no hook, no line, no sinker. There is you on that side, and me on mine. You said this was non-negotiable. You said you knew better. But you...somewhere out there...laughing at a bar. Drinking with these people you call friends, sometimes your thoughts rest on me. You drive home at 5 in the morning, fumbling for your keys, wearing this big buffer now that keeps you hazy. You think you need to be hazy for a while. And what do I know anyway. You're just doing what you've always done. How did this happen, how did we end up hurting each other...do what you want. But I know what you're up to.

7:40 is morning not night

These apologies are getting old...I don't understand why you think its easier to say you're sorry than to do the right thing. I keep looking for your eyes, waiting for a flicker of recognition...only when I least expect it does it appear. How do we move forward now, we're both so backward looking...I appreciate the moments when our eyes meet. At the very least our tension is honest.

We Put the Never in Never.

This ain't the end, this is self preservation.
Pretty boy looks. Vain, and cocky. You had your pick in high school. I called you soldier but it was I who fought so hard for you. You want to know what I remember? I wore a turquoise cami with a yellow tank top when we walked around the lake, and I told you I was a republican, just to see your face grimace. Our first kiss. Publix sugar cookies, Jimmy Eat World-Hear You Me, the greenway. You interrupted me while I was talking and kissed me. I was so stunned I went right on with our conversation like nothing happened. Burgundy shirt, alpine in kahuna. Hair so long you said I looked like Eve, as we messed around on empty soccer fields at night, always looking for a rare place alone. The first time we went out you locked your keys inside your car at the movies, and we walked to the convenient store to buy a hangar, and spent a few good hours bending it in the right shape to snag the keyring. The next time we went out, you did the same thing.
I remember our long walks. I remember watching every scrubs episode that summer, and when I gave you that link, it was the first time you ever said you loved me. Not seriously, and not taken so. But the first. The second time, you meant. And I said thank you, like in the movies. It broke you, but it wasn't really fair. It was only a month. You were always leaving me. I learned quickly that the second a man seems most in love, most interested in me, is the second before he leaves.
We spent those next 18 months meeting secretly. Talking all the time. You loved me, you left me. That time on the concrete block next to the cow trough in the fields behind Holy Trinity. The first time you told me you heard voices. Just your name, in an empty hallway. We breathed each other in, felt the energy electrify between us. You stole me a candy bar from the gas station. Dark chocolate milky way.
I kept tabs on you, always. I taught you how to drink. I felt like such a bad ass, teaching boys to shoot whisky in a house that wasn't ours. We found time alone wherever we could. How I regret that now. Isn't it crazy how we introduce people to things we later hate that they do?
You got me high the first time. I fought so hard to stay in reality. We walked around in the woods, hiding in our paranoia. I saw a pterodactyl, hanging from the trees. You sat alone in the empty stands at my high school graduation. I was so sick. I left there so fast there's only one picture of me from that day, stepping off the stage. Just to be with you.
I used to sneak into your window to spend the night. My world collapsed around me, and you offered to be my safety net. My family. That summer we fell in love. Apathy Eulogy-Impetuous Me. Firehouse subs. I was so covered in bruises. Matt and Kim- Daylight. And then we both left. Again. College. The last day of summer, we started a tradition. Bacardi. You grew up, and so did I. But we couldn't be without each other. We were on and off again, and you cried when you had to go home. Owl city-Fireflies You cried when I left you. Kid Cudi-Up up and away. Say Anything- Cemetery. I visited Orlando. And that's when I really saw it. The rest is crystal clear.

I don't think you remember. Runs, barefoot, Waculla Springs, sunburns. That alligator in the park. The time Charlie went missing. The time we made Charlie armor. Fireworks. That horrible cake we made. That awesome Thai food we made. That rainstorm we watched. Walking through the mall in matching outfits. You bought a pretzel. The colony. That abandoned house we walked to. The guy with the camera we talked to. How about that summer we lived together. I never loved anyone so hard. I knew...I knew, I couldn't have you. You made it impossible. But you loved me too. Smoothies. The projector. That time in the hotel where I surprised you, butt naked. The dog park. Every. Single. Day. That field in south Florida, we drove to the lake edge, remember...getting caught?

There are a lot of things left out. A lot of thoughts. Like holding your hand in the hospital. Drawing pictures. Like slipping you medication when you were too messed up to take it. Like hiding from you under the desk. Like the baseball bat. Like South park. Like your graduation night. Like how we'd fight. Things we don't talk about.

I thought maybe you'd react differently this time, but I am coming to see, you're the ant in the amber. Time goes on, I grow older, but you stay the same. It doesn't matter if we're not "friends", C, we never were. You'll never go away, and neither will I. We're just a couple of stupid kids throwing a ball back and forth, just to see who drops it first...