Tuesdays aren't better

They're worse.

I am no better than you.  No different in fact, but we know that.  She knows why my heart faces another direction but she doesn't know why my heart faces a direction that won't face me back.  She reminds me of me when I felt the same way about you.  Why won't you face me when he proves to be twofaced.  Now he is not twofaced. Now he faces only you everyday and you love him for it, but still I won't get the picture. Rather, still I won't get out of the picture. 

What faces me is picturesque, someone who shows me more than I ask for.  But I think myself to be an artist. I suffer to draw my own pictures. My hand is not steady, my heart thuds too violently. I will never draw my masterpiece.  I despair to think that my own heart beats against me rather than for me.

Today I felt the pain and shame I've made you feel. I hurt a good person.  She's better than me. She made her choice selflessly to let me make my own selfishly. That, is grace. I'm sorry to you both for my lack thereof. I have fallen from it.

I'll leave you both alone. Your world is not mine to pick apart, nor mine to piece together. I only meant you the best.

Stuck

She can't tell me how much she loves him, that wouldn't be fair to me. She can't tell me how much she loves me, that wouldn't be fair to him.  She is stuck. No words can come out, so hopefully I can see the letters in these tears and piece together the words for her. I'm generally better with words anyway, but I keep wiping those tears away without reading them first. How is that fair to her? 

She's already taken all the hard steps I never could. She left me. She left where I work, she left where I play, she walked across the hot coals of my disappointment to get to her paradise and I would not be so brave.  She took the steps I have never taken, the bravery is commendable.  She doesn't know that I took every step in her direction not out of fear of losing her, but out of my own bravery.  I follow her because I too am venturing towards paradise. Her tears are acid but I wipe them with my hands which I need to write because I would rather see them burn away my words than scortch that perfect face, the reason I write.

She's fear-filled to think of what it will mean for me to be in this emotional purgatory. She's excited to think what it will mean for her to still have me in her life. She is stuck.

Monday Revisited

Exhausted, depleted, worn down. This was too much for one day, so I left before the sunset. But here in the night, I still have this bed to contend with.  This bed where I brew possibility soup try a new recipe.each night. I close my eyes because a watched pot never boils, but an unwatched pot boils over and all the ingredients are gone. I will have to start a new broth.  If you know of any recipes let me know. 

Exhausted, depleted, worn down. Tuesdays are normally better, but what will get me through tonight if there is no soup?

Hardcover

What else is owed? Simply tell me. I have nothing here to sell you, it was never for sale; family and business.  I just gave. You didn't want. I took back to repair. You wanted. I gave again. I valued myself at zero so you could have me day and night, just ask. You have me day and night, but free books are the first to suffer ruffles and frays.  Free books often take the longest to read and appreciate.

You were kind enough to leave donations.  You paid me more attention than I anticipated. How could I expect you to pay me more?  For what, a book you can find at the library for free?  You read all my pages, good read. Who cares for the brand new issue coming out this fall? It's just another divine comedy.

I need to stop writing comics. It's time to grow up.  My masterpieces had pretty pictures, but these new age books are interactive and sell better.  They sell for more too. They come with a price and that's why they've always been valued more than my work. There's a difference between free and priceless, I thought I was priceless. Lesson learned: To have value, there must be benefit but there must also be cost.

Next time I'll be a hardcover.

Enclose Circle

I fucked up again. Did it all wrong. I let him get on all bad and thing. I should have just taken the portion alloted for me. After all it's actually more than I have ever known. I hope you can excuse apathy from the pathetic.

Is believing

It's not a waiting game. It's not a game. It's my life and I am watching it. I'm not in control or being controlled, this is why I know that I am spectating. I am separated from myself and I miss me. We got along well, we had these big ideas of who we would become.  He's off trying to be a success. I see him at work putting up the good fight.  Because I am separated from him I have a great vantage point. I can see that he's on a treadmill, but from where I am I can't tell if I'm going anywhere.  Maybe he's moving and I'm on the treadmill, everything is relative.  All I know absolutely is that yesterday here felt like home, but tomorrow it will not.  I have to feel it to believe it, or sense it by some other means because from my vantage point I'm not seeing any changes.  I'm still here and you're still there. 

My faith has long since been tested, show me what I have always believed.

Driveway Evenings

A manager who tries to be everything for everyone ends up being nothing for anybody.

In the dessert there is nothing, and no man needs nothing.

People often make choices out of weaknesses. That's fine as long as you make decisions out of strength.

I wore headphones until I finally heard you. I wrote words until I finally had something to say. 

Now I have a raft with no anchor. These waves will carry me far from here.