Revelation

He's just not that into you..

Shit! Not again,
My heart sinks every time I hear that little voice because I can ignore it if I dare...but its always true.
And always you, beautifully enticing and surprisingly persuasive, mute that voice.
Loud and bold are your empty advances, lost chances, almost romances...
But this time...
I'm not that into you either.

The Day You Walked By

Would you believe me if I told you I was insecure?
That I second guessed myself after I sent the text and waited by the phone for a response.
I am not always as strong as I seem, in fact sometimes I feel quite weak...and forgotten.
One day I'm a leper, the next day I'm spoiled rotten.
Would you believe me if I said my feelings change like the tides?
And that the only day I almost cried was that rainy Monday when you walked by, head high, talking to some guy.
The contents of the conversation were irrelevant, still you chose to ignore my presence, and it sent a chill down my spine.
You found it so easy to push me aside, how could I cry?
Tears wouldn't change that Monday.
Or every Monday after that when I stood in the same spot you saw me in, staring at the people walking by.
Hoping that maybe in that spot I could become invisible to them, like I was to you the day you walked by.
Hope. Such a childish fantasy, I should have outgrown it by now..
But it is the last strand of a perfect romance and I clench it in my fist, knuckles turning white, refusing to loosen my grip.
Don't judge me.
Don't you dare judge me.
You are me.

Timothy and Joshua

I have two friends named Timothy and Joshua.
They are Cuckoo Heads.
Two peas in a pod they are.
As looney as a tune and as wacky as snow in June.
They're brothers till the end and partners in crime.
And they can sneak up behind my chair and scare me every time.
Timothy hates Velveeta, but he knows silly bands like a champ.
Joshua loves baseball, he probably even goes to baseball camp.
They are two of the best friends I ever could have known.
And when I look back to when we first met, I see how much they've grown.

Powerless

I need to stop trying to ignore it.
Tucked away in the recesses of my mind, in a box labeled “stuff” is you.
I had to do this.
I needed to hide you from myself, smash you in a box with a conspicuous label and shove you under a bunch of things I never look at.
See I'm not one for pain.
It grips me like a huge wrench and grinds me into a helpless, crying heap of flesh and emotions.
I hate it.
And this “relationship” (that's as far as I'll go to label it) is like pain on a stick beating the life out of me with every new day.
The problem is that I thought it was over.
I thought if I just got over you, on to another one, that I could ignore what was always there.
I can't.
Its becoming more and more apparent to me that I loved you all along.
All along.
I couldn't explain the fascination at first.
Maybe like a new toy or a good book.
But it grew into admiration, adoration, agitation.
Do you know what it's like to love unconditionally? Unrequitedly?
Of course not.
But I do.
To love, and to wish to be loved back.
To expect to be loved back.
To believe you are loved back.
Is like waiting for a train that will never come.
The tracks are rusted, the station deserted, yet the eager traveler stands at the edge of the platform peering into the distance, convinced the train is just over the horizon.
Its pathetic.
I was pathetic.
I can't promise I won't be pathetic again.
But I will try.
I hate the way you make me feel.
Powerless.