“Say yes,” said the envelope given by a stranger in the coffee shop. I thought of someone I was convinced I loved until each time I see him & my mind begins to churn out questions I know I’ll never have the answer to. Like, what did my grandparents mean when they said to never make friends & consume your heartaches quietly. What did all those stories about the war really amount to? The estranged great-uncle who redeemed himself by killing a horde of men. Enemies. These days I am offered affection & friendship by strangers & my natural response is to shirk it off. Fight & flight only lead to fright. Suspicion is a song stuck on loop in my head. Nicole, who reads Freud across me, tells me to live a little. I say, how, why, so what & stop to look around me. The room is dim & cold & I can’t help but think of him, the one I gave gift after paltry gift, each acceptance something I was sure wasn’t love, & how he held all I offered like a toy, stretching everything into thinner & thinner pieces, wearing it all out with those long fingers & I keep waiting for something to break –
On a scale of one to god, how tired are you of giving yourself away?
On a scale of yellow to vincent van gogh, will this sadness last forever?
Follow your dreams, said sage advice, reblogged over 9,000 times in the stratosphere of human history, consciousness, etc.
But my dreams like staying with me, bound to the very being of me – volatile & prone to change – feet burning bright but safely bound to the ground where I stand, movement soft as the shadow sewn to my spine.
Most people mistake happiness with contentment.