Doubts

It's all back to normal I suppose. He sends increasingly sweet messages and tells me he misses me. Sometimes I reply back those three words. Others I don't. Some figures have emerged and re-emerged these past two weeks, on their own or by my digging them out. And there is this recurring desire to hurt him and to keep myself from doing that. But the truth is that two weeks of angry silence have shuttered my fragile trust in him - and I have resisted trusting him from the beginning and he has trusted me and he's been unraveling since before Christmas and suddenly this thing is a freefall. Only I think I'm the supposed parachute and joke's on us because I've got holes along my hands and heart and mind. And for all he says he loves me, he still did not communicate for two weeks over something stupid and I had to reach out twice, against my pride, my ego and my sense of what is right. The first time I was scorched and the second we were both past being tipsy and too tired of the silence to argue, so the morning after we swept the whole thing under the rug, neither apologising for something neither believed we had to apologise. Except the thing is, how can I keep this, whatever it is, if the slightest of trouble summons from him self-righteous silence? For what will happen when the real trouble hits, when the difficult part of me is exposed to him, when I can not be full of sunshine and quiet understanding? I can not but expect him to bail. I can not blame him for it either, sometimes I want to bail myself too.

Unbeknowst to him, her words echo still in my head, words he has no idea I've ever heard, words she does not know better than to direct to me. Sometimes knowledge can hurt the most. (I am too much of a masochist to relinquish the idea of it though.)

I give him strength he says, but my mind is a closed book to him and it's a matter of time before that drains us both.

Another glass of wine will do I suppose. I should have one in one of Rome's buried bars soon. Too broke for that, but sometimes we have to push some things to let some others rest.

*

I foresaw
all possible endings
except this.
Perhaps that is why
it hurts.

It went like this

He asked
whether I had something to say.
"I did
but fuck it."
He said alright, he'll fuck it.


I'd be a liar to say
he won't leave a hole behind him
he is not already leaving a hole
that won't be filled
that I won't fill myself if I have to.


I'd be liar to say
I am not bleeding from the effort already.

*

He said,
"Should I tie you,
you'll be in pain."
"But you will take care of me?"
"I always take care of you."

Afterwards in a whisper
almost inaudible
"I care so much about you.
Do you realise what I feel for you?"