Flow of Consciousness pt 2
This won't be poetry.
Not sure what this is at all. What it is to become as my fingers continue seeking keys that will spell out what's been weighing on my soul, dragging me into the depths without revealing itself wholly.
He doesn't read this. He never has. At least I'm safe. Even if it hurts to realize that he was only ever interested in learning the language of my body, and not once listening to the whispers of my heart. That what I feel never mattered as long as he got the opportunity to feel alive again and again.
He claims differently.
He lies.
Leaving me behind would be the easiest choice for him.
I've considered what happens if she finds out.
He'll tell her I'm insane. Obsessed. He feels bad for me because I'm lonely and crazy.
When my friends found out I told them I'm crazy for loving him.
If pressed, he would deny me.
When pressed, I surrender and admit my defeat in the face of this battle with my own emotions.
If she finds out? He scrambles to set his life right again. Get back to normal as quickly as he can. Back to his day-to-day without me in it.
My life is forever changed. Nothing will ever be the same.
It's unfair. But it's what I chose.
Do I keep choosing this? Knowing he'll never love me? Knowing I'm nothing more than an interesting book he picked up while bored in the waiting room at the DMV. He's passing his time.
He's making his life with her tolerable so that he never has to change a thing, never risk being uncomfortable.
Shouldn't that be enough for me to walk away?
I know the answers.