No One Likes Emo

Don’t get me wrong, I get it.  But you need to let it go.  I know you sit and think about how you were when you were together and how marvelous it was.  You sit and replay over and over how good you were together; the way they made you feel, the secrets you shared.  Every soul shattering iota of passion, warmth and caring that cascades over you when you sit and dwell on the memories.

What you need to realize is that it is all bullshit.  They are not that person.  They are not the one you want.  What you want is the idea of them in your head, not who they really are.  Because if they were that person, they would be here, and they’re not.

You need to get over it.  Stop sitting there everyday torturing yourself with their memory.  You’re not a child anymore.  You need to put the past in the past.  I didn’t say it wouldn’t hurt and it won’t be easy but you need to stop whining.  Everyone gets it.  We’ve all been there.  But we had the decency not to skulk around for an indeterminate amount of time.  So drop your balls and grow up already.

I can guarantee that if they aren’t in your life right now, they aren’t thinking about you.  

What If I Don't Want To?

I'm supposed to write this.  Something for the masses. And I find that all the words have left me of late.  I sit and stare at the paper and it just is.  And I am, but we are not together.  It would be tragic, if it could be considered remotely sad.  Its not like I don't have thoughts.  This morning I swam a mile and my head was full of things and now its empty.

Its always empty the moment the ink is ready. 

My Muse, My Friend

You know, I just don’t understand you. And I wish that I did, or at least knew more about you to make the confusion a bearable placating thing. I’d like to be a friend. But somehow I think I have fucked things up along the way, and while I have vastly tried to fix things, I often feel I’m making more of a mess. I might convey this sentiment to you, if it didn’t feel like every effort is an unwarranted intrusion into your life.

I want to be a part of your life, but I think you may have misconstrued the implications of my desire for you. To be sure I have no ill intentions or misguided delusions of intimacy and that is not exactly what I strive to clamor for. That’s not what this raucous is about. I have never thought that asking to be someone’s friend would be so complicated and tedious a task, but you seem to effortlessly excel at it.

Perhaps it is arrogance, but I cannot bring myself to try and correct you. I think it’s more like to be fear. And maybe I do want more out of you than friendship, but it’s something I’ve already taken. Whether you want to be or not, I’ve made you a muse. Or maybe Fate has, she tends to be a mucker. My many misadventures have seemingly led to you, and so I will take this if this is all I have to gain from you. And let me assure you, it is not enough.

I want to be close. I want to be friends. I want to be the kind of people who call each other in the middle of the morning/night/etc because it is all suddenly so overwhelming and the sheer magnitude of it is crushing down and you can rant and rave endless and know the other person is listening and even if they haven’t had that exact feeling they know where you are coming from and have some thoughts to express and some suggestions to make. And even if all the advice fails, you know it is all going to be fine because you both can share in that moment and be free to be afraid together, knowing in the end the storm will pass and it will be good again tomorrow.

I am not searching for a savior, saint or prophet. Nor would I expect you to fulfill those roles. I am merely asking for a companion on this long lost road, on this distant journey to many misadventures. And sadly I’m finding the place I believe you should belong, despairingly vacant.