Two years since I knew something wasn’t right, I knew- just not what.
I thought I deserved it.
Deserved what? What was wrong?
Two years since I cried, I cried, I cried until my sadness, my hatred turned to sheer emptiness- a void (where a whole heart should have been).
You were my Valentine in the pouring rain- you were the rain, on Valentine’s Day.
I knew I was meant to want to talk about you, to share smiles of memories of you- but I only knew two things; I knew tears; I knew silence.
I never understood why I cried- I couldn’t put the words to it, but I knew the feelings. I ignored the feelings- for those that were meant to be. You said I deserved it- you made me believe I did.
You kissed me under the bright lights of the city- Oxford Street station, I’ll never forget. I didn’t want to. You knew I didn’t want to- but I was meant to want to.
I said I had to go- I didn’t. I needed to escape. I ran through the city lights until I had no breath left in me- and then I cried. And I cried, and I cried.
I didn’t always know what was wrong, but I knew it was wrong.
I did what you said. I followed your every command- I allowed myself to get wrapped up in you. Heck, I even felt. I felt things I didn’t understand, because how could I be so wrapped up in you- wrapped up in something that made me feel so bad, so hurt. Was I obsessed? Was I hooked on the hurt. But it hurt- I hurt so, so much. How did I feel so hooked, yet so hurt?
It wasn’t you who made me stay. It wasn’t safety, or all the things we were meant to be. It was your lies. It was your manipulation. It was the blurring of the lines. It was the guilt you put on me for living, for breathing for just a moment without you.
Nothing seemed to make sense. I cried about things I had no care for, to people I did care for. Maybe I didn’t care about those things I made myself care about, but the things you did, said? They made me feel things I didn’t understand, things I couldn’t explain; I thought I deserved it all. I cried about things I didn’t care about to people I did care about to make me feel safe. They were all that protected me. You never protected me.
I wish I could be brave.
If I was brave would I have gotten a sticker? A pretty sticker to go on my pretty face like at the dentist? Maybe, I’d have gotten a sticker- but not a sticker like that. A sticker not from you, but because of you (a healing sticker).
I wish I could be brave.
I wasn’t brave.
If I was brave, maybe I could have stopped it. Months and months more, months and months more and when I was finally brave? Months and months after that.
It’s been months and months after now- It’s been two years. You like to play games. I like to have nothing to do with you. You like to play games, and I don’t know when they’ll stop.
Even when you stop, when will you go?
Two years on, and you’re not go. Two years on, and you’ll never go. Haunting.