Voided
I’m not a good person.
I notice and I hook,
I keep people on the line.
I hoard them as if they’re one of many categorical collectables.
I can imagine how dehumanizing that is.
I am good at the masks,
I know you are too.
You make yourself out to be unaware and stupid,
When we both know you’re anything but.
The light jokes and positivity,
The seemingly easily come by banter.
We both do it.
I lie.
I know you know I lie.
I took opportunities for honesty and twisted them because of my own distrust.
If you weren’t going to be open with me, why did I owe more of that to you in consideration of nothing?
Cognitive dissonance.
I said I was someone I wanted to be, not the person I was.
I was unfair.
I said things which hurt you, I know.
I slammed a door shut that I desperately wanted to keep open.
It was from shame and fear and hurt.
There was no way for you to know that.
I felt like you never heard me.
I felt unseen when you crossed firm boundaries due to liquid courage.
I never told you.
Your insecurities were louder than anything I could ever say.
I think maybe we turned out the same in that regard.
The reality is that I’m an impossibly lonely person.
Which is rich considering I’ve got people.
I have people who want to chat, who want to connect.
It all falls flat for me because they are not you.
It hurt when you started seeing me as someone I am not.
When you started treating my qualifications as indicators of insecurity, rather than proofs that I had started to feel fundamentally misunderstood by you.
Maybe I propped up a fantasy human in my head.
But my intuition says something entirely different.
The truth is my feelings for you are an entirely somatic exercise,
Void of any intellectualization.
And that makes me extraordinarily uncomfortable,
Because I don’t know what to do with it,
Because I don’t understand them at all.
I feel so empty, now.
You are right there and a world away at the same time.
I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t even know if it’s fixable.
I don’t know if you think it’s worth fixing.
In which case, if not, I don’t know how to get over the hope you gave me.
The fall is harder because the lift went higher than I thought was possible for me, now.
I’m just… far more broken than I’ve been before.
And I have no idea what to do with any of it.