u/Longjumping_Ad_1867

I don’t need you.

I want you to keep me company.
I yearn for you to look my way.
It would be a dream if we could spend our entire lives together.

But ultimately, and sometimes uncomfortably, I truly don’t need anyone.

I’m at the mercy of my own heart,
my own brain.

At the end of the day, the one I need to appease is myself.

But why wouldn’t I want your company?

The indifference you feel between us should be infuriating,

But honestly,
I just feel bad for you.

Because ultimately if you didn’t feel the connection,
that’s just terribly sad.

Yearning with one’s heart
as though there is no consequence—

truly is the only way
to feel alive.

Floating back and forth between dissociation and cognition,
pinpointing my vision linearly.

Dissociating into the abyss—
absolutes become obsolete.

Writing the final words of my obituary,
I discover an ease in death
I never felt in life.

Closing my eyes,
I can finally relax
as the tension leaves my muscles.

I settle into my coffin,
feeling my body stiffen
like the walls surrounding me.

Rigor mortis—
the stiffness of death.

Everything stands still,
even the air,
caught in its final gasp.

And yet...

There is no absolute.

Our existence is randomness,
generated by luck and sheer will.

Any glimpse of happiness
is happenstance—
a kind of magic.

The indifference you feel between us should be infuriating,

But honestly,
I just feel bad for you.

Because ultimately if you didn’t feel the connection,
that’s just terribly sad.

Yearning with one’s heart
as though there is no consequence—

truly is the only way
to feel alive.

I seem to have misplaced my sanity.

Something in the way you used those words
really seemed to cut deep.
Not because they were true,
but because you meant them.

There's got to be a better way
to close the gap in communication
than raising our voices.

The wall between us becomes a canyon,
my tears ammunition.

Men shouldn't cry,
but the way you throw me under the bus
makes me want to get up
and keep walking.

Nothing cinematic.
Nothing inspirational.

Just forward.

My love was too smothering.
You needed to breathe,
and I needed you.

These days I search for your smile
in the faces of strangers,
always coming up empty.

I studied your face most nights
while we slept,
drifting in and out of consciousness,
memorizing every feature,
amazed that someone as beautiful as you
wanted to fall asleep beside me.

Now all I have
are dreams of notifications,
phantom texts,
you finally unblocking me
and letting me back in.

There shouldn't be a divide,
but there is.

And I'd be lying
if I said
I wasn't feeling
the impact.

Eh, I'm gonna make it out of this, surely.

But the fact that you would leave this pain here to sit...

Shows I misjudged you in the first place.

I was never the best judge of character.

I've always been quick to forgive—

A bleeding heart can only give so much
before it dries out.

Surely there was some connection?

Just because my words
were more passionate
than you were prepared for...

Doesn't mean
you weren't feeling it too.

I wish you'd just tell me you hated me.

Because to act so disgusted,
so uninterested—

That's the only delusion here.

My heart is screaming for you!

I can't calm it down.
It's waking up everyone in the house—and all of my neighbors.

The cry is something awful...
High-pitched and distraught,
like it's starving or injured.

I figure I've got maybe a few more minutes before the cops get here on a noise complaint.

Maybe a padded room would muffle its screams.

A muzzle and a straitjacket—

Three square meals a day.
Let's just keep that tucked away...

I mean, truly,
what would the neighbors say?

Images of you litter the walls of my brain,
Plans of action,
Ideas of grandeur.

You aren't looking for me right now,
and that's fine.

I already found you.

I'm here with open arms.
You don't need me,
and I don't need you...

But God damn it,
do I want to make it happen.

For me.
For you.
For us.

All those nights I spent falling asleep watching you,
how peaceful and beautiful you looked at rest...

How I'd spend the rest of my life
protecting such a treasure of a human.

Don't push me away.

I'm still here,
waiting for your glance.

Hey.

I know you've spent a good portion of time explaining how you feel—
through words,
through art...

But can you not?

Like...
can we just pretend none of that ever happened?

The late-night talks.
The safety we found in each other's conversations.

Just brush that shit under the rug
and act like we never tried.

Alright.

But it'll kill me spiritually.

It'll drain me mentally.

I'd have to lie to your face every day,
shape hollow words with my lips and tongue,
and let you feel the distance
like it was always meant to be there.

If that's what you need to be happy,
I'll play my part.

Just don't ask me to pretend
it doesn't hurt.

Dug a hole and called it home.

Surely there's a greater purpose
at the bottom of this pit.

Like when I was little,
trying to dig a hole to China.
We never made it,
but at least there was a goal in mind.

What's the meaning of life?

I can never truly relax.

I know, for a fact,
doomscrolling doesn't calm my nerves.

And when I'm off my phone,
all I do is shuffle
through the same maddening thoughts,
again
and again.

It's hard to truly think.
To ponder.
To decide.

My past continues
to march forward
into my future.

We can contemplate
the extent to which these things hurt us,

but don't let them linger
past their expiration.

Grief can become a home.
Fear can become a routine.
A hole can become an address.

Eventually,
you have to stop digging
and start climbing.

If I said I missed you first,
you would hear the wrong thing. 

I'd have to pack my things,
shrink myself,
lie to your face.

You want me,
but you don't want to tell me that...

Or maybe
you don't.

Either way,

I feel fucking lonely, dude.

You don't have to want me by your side.

Just let me go.

Am I merely playing the part
of the man who falls in love?

Is this a facade?

Lights.
Camera.
Action.

Mask up now—
you're the main attraction.

And in my defense,
this descent
was meant for two.

I wasn't trying to push and pull;
I was trying to prove
my love was true.

But how could I?

As if giving you more
could convince you
to give me less to grieve.

I loved you
aimlessly, relentlessly,
without restraint.

And it was as pointless
as me...

for missing the point.

It was never going to take
the kind of work
that aches you to the joints.

It didn't matter
how often I checked on you.

The truth was always there.

It wasn't the way I loved you.

I thought I could win you over
with my music.

But what you heard
was hopelessly out of key.

The chords cried,
"We have to leave."

The trumpets shrieked.

You kept it brief.

And now I'm left standing here,
listening to the silence,

watching you leave me.

This is stupid...

It's crazy.
It's insane.
It's absolutely stupid...

But what love isn't?

When have you ever put yourself out there
and not felt...
I don't know—
a little ridiculous?

Uncomfortable, even.
Like,
Shit, dude... I'm really handing you all the cards.

And don't even get me started
on the mask-wearing liars
who treat love like a game.

They take the little faith
and hope we've managed to build,
then dim our lights.

And then what?

You expect me to do this again?

It's disheartening.

It feels disgusting.

Almost shameful.
Like,
Dude... I just put myself out there.

And now you want me
to open myself to someone else—
to hand them the keys
to every room I've kept locked,
to give them the ability
to crush me.

But I think the other option
is even worse.

Never knowing
if you could have loved me
the way I needed.

Never giving you
the chance
to prove me wrong.

There's something
both beautiful
and heartbreaking
about lowering your shield...

and opening your arms anyway.

My self-image is a photocopy of a photocopy,
made up of nothing but hearsay.

I've let the opinions of others,
my environment,
the horrible things that happened to me,
completely shape who I am.

And honestly—
who wouldn't?

Now my self-esteem
is reliant on the vibe of the room,
on how well I'm performing
my impromptu circus act:
juggling self-regulation
while entertaining everyone else.

Life is a desperate attempt
at death.

You are my favorite part of the day,
When I'm feeling out of place.
Not much else to say—
You're my escape.

Lost in your laugh,
I'm taken aback.
I need this in my life;
My soul aches that you're not by my side.

I knew it the moment I looked you in the eyes.
No... I can't lie.
I'm in deep—
Jumped in headfirst, still kicking my feet.

Down on my knees,
There's not a thing I wouldn't do
If it meant you'd choose me.

I'd choose you every day—
The easy, laid-back days
Where we're simply enjoying each other's company,
Sharing the same space.

And on the days
When it feels like the odds are stacked against us,
I'd still give you everything I have.
We'll piece it together.

Nothing stays perfect forever,
But I'd never stop choosing you.

I need you with me always...

But if life won't give me always,
I'd settle for most of the time.

These feelings aren't leaving me;
they continue to grow daily—
planning a surprise party, waiting for the perfect moment
to jump out and remind you they're still here.

Sitting on the back burner,
the pot melted through bone dry,
the water boiled away long ago.

Shouting from the rooftops
into oncoming traffic,
announcing themselves, challenging
all who stand in their way.

Yet hiding in the shadows,
trying not to frighten you—

Knowing that the fastest track to your heart
is lined with cuts and bruises left by others.

These feelings aren't leaving me;
they continue to grow daily—
planning a surprise party, waiting for the perfect moment
to jump out and remind you they're still here.

Sitting on the back burner,
the pot melted through bone dry,
the water boiled away long ago.

Shouting from the rooftops
into oncoming traffic,
announcing themselves, challenging
all who stand in their way.

Yet hiding in the shadows,
trying not to frighten you—

Knowing that the fastest track to your heart
is lined with cuts and bruises left by others.

I need to at least close my eyes,
Even if sleep eludes me;
My head shouting desperate
Quotes from conversations long past on repeat.
Holding on—thinking maybe
I could have done things differently.
How hard it is to sleep normally;
But give me a break from routine,
And I'm doomed.

It was a small peace of mind,
Staring at you through the screen every night,
Feeling the heaviness settle into my eyes.
But if you need space,
I'll give you a nebula.