Breaking the Silence

december 24, 2005

It seems like forever since I've seen, or heard you're voice. I feel your absence like a knot in the pit of my stomach. I barely believe in you. You seem waithlike, and fleeting,...half real, and transparent. More dream than a creature having any substance. It is a fearful thing, to love what is only alive and whole in your own head.

This is not how I planned you. What I dreamed us up to be. I prefer the fantasy of us that I had when we talked for hours. I am becoming resigned now to feeling this way. I don't understand this change in you? You leave me alone to find a whores comfort in the arms of strangers and still I long for you. It is madness, my feeling affection for you right now. That is me in the corner, half dead, wordlessly. Where are you? What has happened to the you? Who are you? You are no good to me as a rumor. I need you with ground under your feet. I have enough mirages. I am tired out with absences; and with trying to fill them.

Your silence is vehemence. I hate it, and yet I fear your speaking equally now as well. Your truth might be death dealing. Loving you is nothing less than one of my grandest of self-betrayals. You've brought me no comfort in the last few weeks, only this dull ache. I feel no anger towards you, that is now hidden so deep that I can feel it only towards myself. I am ashamed that I accept this from you, and still want you near me as much as I do. I feel I should be outraged and insulted. Not sad, filled with longing, and missing you. However I am content with the lie that i should feel this devotion towards you. I must be, unable as I am to give you up. For now, it is enough. You create for me something to feel while traversing this empty space. I am passing the time in a web of fantasy and deceit. It is nothing more than hope in you though. I have no faith in you or us as I did before. Just a desperate clinging to hope. It is a sad thing.

Mostly, I pass my day in a state that is numb enough that I can pretend to be happy. I pass as content enough. I do so by filling my thoughts with lies that give me comfort. Such as, I am fine, and strong. You are there and real and caring. I will become someone worthwhile. In the springtime I will love life again. In this state of self-defacing ignorance, I can pretend to not feel so alone without you, as the days repeat the same absences of you. It works until I hear the echo of you in the silence, or feel the breath of an empty space, that is when the world becomes more difficult than I have said.
"There is no because in love." No reason. I have no explanation. Only that I hunger for you. You fill the void. Despite myself I crave you. I am living for momentary beauty. With you, I know my heart will belong and break. Still I leave it out on the shelf, like an uncertain offering. It is a lonely girls ignorance that keeps it there, knowing, as I do, it must struggle against the sapphire sharpness of the truth's you offer up. Patrick, they are death-dealing.

What I seek in you is not nothing. I am searching for what shines in you. What shines in everyone who's inner flame has not been snuffed out and hidden in thier own dark and murky depths. Mine feels lost and blue. I should know by now to give up wanting to touch it. I cannot grasp it. I cannot trust in love or you, neither have a shape I can see, nor a sound I can hear. I have offered myself up to you in trade for shelter. Although I haven't much to offer. A smile. Eyes. Hands. Mouth. No soul.

I have prostrated myself before you. I want to live for you, through you. Making your will, your life, your desires, my purpose. My command center. My touchstone. I want nothing more than to hand up to you all that is me, and let you make it yours. I thought that it was something beautiful and rare. Undoubtedly much of me will be left on the side of your bed, hidden with the many other secret places with in you. In the end will you make me the better for it? Alive, transformed, and renewed? Where are you? Doesn't't this mean more to you than all these empty spaces?

What more can I say? I am beginning to speak in the past tence. I know fear of loss is not enough to cause love to stay. If hurting my feelings for weeks strait is not enough to move you, you are the anti-christ, a true dream-killer. There are no words that will move you. I put my faith in you, and it is faltering. Why do I hold so little weight? Don't you miss me at all? How can I be so far from your thoughts for so long if you care at all? Do you have some purpose? Or are you simply this careless? I can find no excuse or lie that justifies this.

Say something, speak.