All the beautiful things end up broken to begin with.
I was complete until the sight of this man shattered me. He was the loudness of a stunned silence crashing into my black noise. I was overcome with the explosive stillness love leaves and though he is so far gone that the love is nothing but distant shapes on a long road, I long to escape inside of his bed covers, I long to walk the tight rope that is the line of sight between two lovers when all they see is the other’s uncertainty, because behind the bullshit that is bravery we’re all just pretending not to be scared.
The recurring thought that says: what if I wake up one day and he has gone to an eternal sleep!
What if he leaves!
I left once because I was told to.
Bereft once because I was sold out from under a Babylon of truth.
Depression paid a copious price for my memory and now I am sure of what it takes to be as free as any man can be that is caged in this skin, in this house, in this country, in this world.
In that place behind my eyes I removed my head from my neck like a light bulb plucked from a lamp socket when the light in the dream died. When he left my side and dismantled me the way humility would later dismantle my pride.
Within the capacity for freedom lies blindness. Blinded by fear and blind to the danger that accompanies fearlessness, I was so unafraid I risked only the insecurities of others.
No one tried to silence me, though they would never admit it: they were afraid of me and they knew it would take a greater measure to shut me up and so they turned me against myself. They turned me against my choices. They turned me so far inward that all I could see were the voices.
I was so blinded by loving someone who was lost that I could not find it within myself to walk away and stay free. I got caught up in the great white lie between his black thighs under the guise of the lonely Friday night we spent talking shit under the stars.
In the event of falling apart, walk away and keep yourself together. Shoot the dreamer, never the dream.
I did it. It was me and now I am so fucking blind that I am certain I am once again free until I fall and am dismantled again by those kinds of men who hide great loves like me from their mediocre friends.
“There’s no better way to dismantle a personality than to isolate it”
– Princess Diana of Wales.
