the last person.
01/14/2011 § Leave a comment
i have spent countless conversations defending this person from the wrath of this city, raising this person’s qualities up to the light, like a gem being appraised for its worth.
see how it glimmers ? here, look at this beautiful flaw. i point to it, and hope the friend in disbelief will eventually see it too.
she’d worn faces i chose to stare head on, when everyone else turned away. i see the pain she masks. i also see the wounds she inflicts on others. i understand how you feel, i empathize with her victims. she doesn’t always see what she’s doing, try to forgive her. i repeat these words over and over again, hoping they’ll sink into their raw flesh and scab over.
she pierces deeply.
but without question, i had accepted the challenge as her public defender. a defender of the crazy ones. the reckless ones. the unfiltered ones. maybe if i protect her, someone will protect me too.
tonight, i woke up thick-tongued and blurry-eyed from what felt like a drug-laced slumber. there, on my screen, flashed her name, next to a neat little package of ugly words glazed in honey. they spilled everywhere and slithered like tiny, sticky snakes under my skin.
i felt sick. so it’s come to this.
in every relationship, there is a moment or a series of moments that begs you to decide whether you should fight forth.
that moment has come for us and for the first time in my entire life, i am okay with walking away. nevertheless, i can’t help but hope she won’t feel too lonely.
within seconds, i am reaching for the person i find comfort in knowing he exists when life gets fuzzy. i imagined laying my makeshift soul down next to his, magically inflating my dried up heart with his unbeatable hugs. no one can hug me the way he does.
how cruel life is then that i would forget this: he is now the last person i am allowed to reach for. just as i stepped down from my position as her protector, he had taught me first by example just weeks ago: you step down like this.
and then he was gone.
life and its ironies make for a cleverly dark off-broadway show.
pending title: Everything is Temporary.
one day i might look back and laugh. maybe shake my head, amused.
but at 4am this morning, i am just tired.