"so, you going to write about this?" he asked as we lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
"what?" i replied.
"are you going to write about this tomorrow in your blog?" he asked again, smirking at my surprise.
he had figured out that he was the infamous 'you.' i wasn't prepared for that.
i tried to lie. "what are you talking about? i've never written about you."
he laughed. then he pointed out a specific entry from a few years ago that was most definitely about him. there wasn't much to decode. i had used too many details. i didn't think it mattered because i never thought he'd find my blog to read it.
"okay, i wrote about you one time. i promise i won't do it tomorrow."
he laughed again, submitting to my stubbornness whilst clearly recognizing that i was lying through my teeth.
a few months later, a friend of mine insinuated that he thought the 'you' was him. i couldn't help but think of that conversation with you and laugh. i really had only written about him once. if he had actually called me out like you did, i wouldn't have needed to lie.
well, darling, you aren't always the 'you'...but you've been him more than anyone else.
Monday, May 30, 2016
Sunday, May 1, 2016
a bad memory leads to bad decisions
i've never had a good memory. my mind simply can't hold on to old conversations, stories, movies or experiences.
my teachers were often disappointed in my seeming lack of retention. my parents lament the fact that i remember only a few details from our early family vacations. my friends hate that i never can remember the tears i've cried over you.
this week, as i welcomed your attention once more, two friends somberly tried to remind me of a time when i wept in their laps over you. i didn't have the heart to tell them that i couldn't remember it. i am sure that it happened. i know well enough to trust their memories over my own.
i remember clearly what caused the tears, but not the crying itself. i can imagine where my heart went in the moment. i probably questioned my worth. i probably doubted my strength. i probably desperately attempted bargaining with God to sever the ties that bound my heart to you.
it's a vicious cycle, this blissful ignorance then inevitable remembrance. because i can't remember the pain from your last leaving, i all too easily fall into your web of charm and wit when you reemerge after lying dormant for months or years. worse yet, i crave it. i invite it. i encourage it.
on most occasions, at least one of us realizes that you plus me equals trouble and we pull away before anyone (me) gets hurt. but sometimes, sometimes i let myself get a little too comfortable. i watch my phone, waiting for your next text. once again, i become the girl i swore i'd never be.
you used to tell me that i deserved better than anything you could offer me. you were right. i always knew you were right. i still know it. and yet, i can't quit. you're like an addiction.
my teachers were often disappointed in my seeming lack of retention. my parents lament the fact that i remember only a few details from our early family vacations. my friends hate that i never can remember the tears i've cried over you.
this week, as i welcomed your attention once more, two friends somberly tried to remind me of a time when i wept in their laps over you. i didn't have the heart to tell them that i couldn't remember it. i am sure that it happened. i know well enough to trust their memories over my own.
i remember clearly what caused the tears, but not the crying itself. i can imagine where my heart went in the moment. i probably questioned my worth. i probably doubted my strength. i probably desperately attempted bargaining with God to sever the ties that bound my heart to you.
it's a vicious cycle, this blissful ignorance then inevitable remembrance. because i can't remember the pain from your last leaving, i all too easily fall into your web of charm and wit when you reemerge after lying dormant for months or years. worse yet, i crave it. i invite it. i encourage it.
on most occasions, at least one of us realizes that you plus me equals trouble and we pull away before anyone (me) gets hurt. but sometimes, sometimes i let myself get a little too comfortable. i watch my phone, waiting for your next text. once again, i become the girl i swore i'd never be.
you used to tell me that i deserved better than anything you could offer me. you were right. i always knew you were right. i still know it. and yet, i can't quit. you're like an addiction.
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