I feel like I might end up on some crazy, mad rampage. That I'll start flipping tables, breaking glass and hacking away at the walls of my room with the wrong end of a hammer.
And then I'll crawl into bed crying because I don't know what's happening but mostly because i really like the walls of my room and i'll be upset that i've ruined it.
I am sick of being so polite and so considerate and not thinking about the things I want. Or asking for the things I want.
Because you're raised on fairytales where if two people love each other a whole lot, then they can read each other's minds. And they will know exactly when to come over in the middle of the day and pull you into a cuddle and say, "You're not wrong. I love you. I love how lilies are your favorite flower because of the smell but you don't keep them in the room because I'm allergic. Secretly I also love how you honestly don't need anyone getting you flowers, much less the person you're with. I like your hair whichever colour it is, although maybe a whole head of green might make me feel like I'm smelling grass sometimes."
I don't need to be swept off my feet, I don't need super special things to be done for me. I want to talk and be able to talk honestly. I miss the way you read me so easily but never assumed to know me. (not that you make assumptions about me now)
I don't want to feel like us meeting up or hanging out is just another thing we should do in the week atop responsibilities and commitments to the things that go on around us. And I don't want to numb myself to the ache of feeling like you don't really need me to be there. Because I have done that before and for too long and it's not a very nice feeling. I don't want to emotionally check-out of being with you, ever, just to keep myself safe. Because then what's the point?
Sometimes I think that I'm pushing this, forcing us when actually, there's an expiry date and we're pretty much getting there. But then I break it all down and look at the places my mind wanders to when I'm alone, the pictures I see in my head and the lines that I read; it's always about you.
And not because I 'happen' to be with you or that there are cardboard cut-outs and wooden theatre sets that create scenes and I'm just mentally photoshopping you in because you're the person-of-the-moment. It's not like that at all, because I can see you in a whole lot of things even when it's not in direct relation to me.
And I re-realize, that maybe you mean a lot to me.
But then again that's not saying anything about expiry dates or how you may or may not still feel about me.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, it's okay to not want me around or to not want to be here. It's okay if somehow we've ended up on different pages. Just maybe, there could be a way such that I won't find myself feeling like things will crumble when I touch it. That I won't just feel like i'm the one who's always ruining it all or making it difficult.
That I won't wake up one morning to find that I've slipped away so much that I've ceased to exist.
And that so have we.
p.s. So, I love you too.