Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Not the One, and Not the Only

Is it very wrong to know that we will never think of each other at the same time?
That once I forget about you, my telephone will ring.
That every chance I could take to speak with you, be with you, lie next to you, is every inconvenience to the rut you've so willingly become accustomed to.
Do you want me when I am not near you, as I suspect you do?
Do you still fight the fact that there was something there to begin with?
Are you hurt when I live my life without you?
Is it wrong to relapse to the pain that you cause me?
I want it now. I want an old pain to replace this new one and put me back in my undeserving place with all my hopes for a better way of thinking.
You still have every chance in the world to turn it around.
Though time and time again, I have told you that last time was the last time.
It all seems a breeze to you. A casual swim in me. A cheat from a diet so carefully thought out.
Wait, though. That seems to be me that I'm referring to.
The one that can't seem to understand that one detour makes for another go 'round on the same road.
You've always taken me back to the beginning.
I always question myself as to why I let you do this.
I've told myself, time and time and time and time again that I am not in love with you.
I've warned myself that this detour is not a new path.
You are the lion's den of stumbling blocks.
I am a stupid little lamb.
And I'm afraid, with all due respect to myself, that you will be the death of my cheerful complexion.
Should I really be happy as just an occasional bite?
Are you really not starving by now?
Sad to say this, but I think I will call you at some point today and ask again for the nagging comfort of what I've grown so dependent on.
They warned me before long enough had passed that I was prone to addiction.
I warned myself and others that withstanding loneliness and doubt were not my strong points.
It is so much easier to be secretive when I am allowing for reasons and have a keen imagination.
It is so much more thrilling when I have so much to lose.
For that, I'm sorry. And I probably will have already lost a few by the end of this speech.
I can't help that my One and Only is not my Only, nor that I am not his One.
I can't help that this doesn't help me. But I can, and will, do it again. And rewrite the same damn regret that lays on my mind.

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