"Unwrite" Me

In crafting a personality, one must be studious. You can’t take any chances. You have to constantly let who you are canvass what you want to be; and that is no easy feat. I stand in front of the weathered glass windows in my hotel room. It’s midnight and I just checked in. As my eyes inch up the ceiling, I am half naked showing my average chest to whoever is up at this daunting hour of the night. This new personality path that I have been navigating is turning me into someone else, and I am scared. I had this velvety feeling in my spirit as I gazed into the open ahead. Slowly, I began to feel the sadness rise up in me, again. My lips twitched out and in grave agreement, uttered a quavering no. My legs were failing me. My back was pressed hard against the glass, I thought I would give in and send me to my death. "Unwriting" myself for the years ahead

My encounter with love was insanity on wheels. It was like being fed with two spoons by different people. Love wasting away in the corridors of our hearts; we did not want to stop, because we were high on the dosage, abusing it in every way we thought possible. We could both run to it whenever our days were going south. It was love. It was addictive, and in limited supply. When the flame died out like fire in the middle of winter, she left me to crawl out of the dark place the addiction had left me. She had unspooled my heart and left it to bleed out. It wasn’t beautiful, it was sour and agony. There was no light. I hovered from darkness to darkness until I crawled out of the pit of bitterness. She was the kind of girl your parents would chose for you, so that you’d have a fair idea of your parent’s taste. She was perfect and I accepted her love.

They say follow your heart, but take your brain with you. Because the brain brings sense to where the heart finds none. The eyes are connected to the brain. I am able to decipher clues, and coded text and so on. All that failed here. The encounter left me bare, with a throbbing pain in my chest. Long nights of nothing but heartache, and raw agony. Loss unrefined and unrestrained. It was there, and I could feel every bit of it. I had never thought someone one could love anyone that much and leave them. My heart was not beautiful. There is nothing beautiful about a broken heart.