Theft By Deception

I'm beginning to know what it feels like. You know. Letting go, even if it's against your will. It's like, at some point, your subconscious just says, "You've had enough. You can't take it anymore. I'm going to MAKE you let go of this. It's killing you."


It's the dreams. I'm dreaming again. Situations; scenarios; things and places that have happened...and will never happen. Strange dreams that make no sense, but leave me feeling drained and depressed as hell when I wake...and not knowing why. Why the hell am I so exhausted when I wake up?

It's because my brain has been thinking all night; trying to work things out; trying to keep me alive. And it sucks. It all sucks. I don't like it. This isn't how it was supposed to turn out.

I trusted. I believed. I jumped in head first. And I knew better, but I still did it.

But it has turned out all wrong and I don't know what to do about it. I wake up and I feel like I'm holding on to something, but it's nothing. I'm holding on to my own delusions; my own...hopelessness.

I used to think that love conquered all. But it doesn't. It really doesn't. It takes a hell of a lot more than "love". And this love is killing me. I'm tired of fighting for it. All I do is wait. Wait. Wait...

What am I supposed to be waiting for? To finally give up? Throw in the towel? Walk away from the table with my pockets...and my soul...empty? What?

Trust. Waiting for trust.

Honesty. Waiting for honesty.

Passion, desire, want. Waiting waiting waiting for these things.

But mostly, I wait. Wait for this. Wait for that.

The confusion comes in when I realize I'm on the bottom of the list. It's when it's misunderstood that a "choice" needs to be made. There is no "choice". I just want to fit in to the puzzle. That's all. No "choices." No this or that. It was never about that.

I was there when times were bad. Real bad. I was there even when I wasn't wanted there. I still stuck it out. Is it so wrong of me? so selfish? to ask when my turn is? To ask when there's time for me?

And so, I drag myself out of bed and I'm heading to work because I have to. Just like everyone else. I'm no different than anyone else. I'm not special. I am not an exception to the rule. I know that.

And I know what's happening. What's really happening. Slowly and painfully. I know what's happening.

I know. But I still won't be ready for it. I won't.

I am still in love with her. But, by her own admission, that person no longer exists. She asks if I know how bad I hurt her sometimes. I wonder if she knows, really knows, how bad she hurts me. Or if she even cares anymore.

It was never about choosing; giving something up for something else. I just wanted to fit into the picture, that's all.

That was all.