Please, Forget Me
In truth it is utterly ludicrous ~ almost comical ~ that this letter causes me so much anguish. How it causes me to feel ill to my stomach and blink back a strange burn ~ how my fingers and hands up to my shoulders and body is filled with this shocked and scared warmth ~ like fear that runs cold and then boils inside every vein and artery. That I should write it reluctantly, so severely concerned with how honestly devastated I would be if it hurt you in anyway. I believe the only reason I can write it at all is because inside I am fairly sure you will read it and ~ if anything ~ be only momentarily aggravated with the time you wasted on it.
“Life is a game.” Your words, that beautiful fucking voice. It was not so far away ~ in the grand picture it was a long time ago when I was becoming who I am now. This girl trapped on a carnival ride ~ spun around and unsure. I took note at the time the brief thought that I should take heed of that warning ~ only you with your way though you have the same presence of a fierce late-summer storm ~ some how you felt safe. Those words were forgotten and then last night as other things hurt and wore on my heart ~ as my confusion here with you was being drown by a rage I tried so hard to quiet ~ those words and that whole night came like a rush of blood to my head. I realized that while to me this was never a game and I while what I feel is raw and real ~ while I never played pretend ~ if your philosophy is that life is a game a congratulations is order. A titanic and enthusiastic, “Well done!”
You are ~ as I am convinced you will always be ~ the winner. Smooth and cool, very ‘pimp.’ Standing here ~ feeling this ~ and there is no one to blame other than myself. You never lied ~ never out right gave any reason to fathom a thought of what tripped me out being mutual. You in your way of smiles and laughs and half sentences or lightly spoken overtures. You are very ~ very good. I am ~ in some twisted way ~ impressed.
As a testament to your skills I am also addicted ~ I will do this forever. Wait for your boredom or lack of alternatives to cause you to look for me. After a week or month or several when you called I’d die of sheer elation and relief and tear myself form anything to be near you.
That’s why I have to ask you for a favor. It wont cost you anything or change your life in anyway. You’ll not suffer the ache or emptiness ~ you won’t even notice. For me ~ could you not call me, because forever if you call I will answer and I will come and I will twist myself to please you and I will hurt because I am not enough. I will call ~ I know I will ~ I will want to hear your voice and feel the high only you can give. Forever thinking, hoping, * that we might again collide in just the right way.
I was hoping since I cannot turn you off and nothing will erase you from me ~ maybe you could do it to me ~ it shouldn’t be too hard.
I was sick to my tummy, I hated to breathe. My head felt dizzy and my heart hurt so very bad. I shook when I gave it to her. I was in a way commiting suicide ~ to loose her was going to kill me. She read it and her cheeks flushed scarlet. Her green eyes brighter because of the red around them. "So you don't want me to call you."
I look at her and my stomach knots into a twisted ball of hurt. "You could not read that and think I don't WANT you to call. Yes, I want you to call ~ ALWAYS. I need you not to, I NEED you to turn me off."
She stands up angerly and sits when I ask her to. She clenches her jaw with madness and relaxes when I remind her that she promised to be nice. She takes a moment and then looks up at me. "No."
Tears are burning my eyes and I tremble harder. "No, what?"
"No, I cannot do that, I will not fulfill that request."
There are tears now, which she ask me not to cry and I am trying to honor that. I demand again and again ~ i need to know why she wont just leave me to feel this agony as it rips me apart.
Her beautiful voice, "We are a certain kind of soul mate. I have to know you and talk to you."
Those words and that thought both completes my heart destroys me.
I believed that with all of my being. I believe it still ~ it's why I cannot walk away. Why she always makes it better. Even now, as she makes it worse.
“Life is a game.” Your words, that beautiful fucking voice. It was not so far away ~ in the grand picture it was a long time ago when I was becoming who I am now. This girl trapped on a carnival ride ~ spun around and unsure. I took note at the time the brief thought that I should take heed of that warning ~ only you with your way though you have the same presence of a fierce late-summer storm ~ some how you felt safe. Those words were forgotten and then last night as other things hurt and wore on my heart ~ as my confusion here with you was being drown by a rage I tried so hard to quiet ~ those words and that whole night came like a rush of blood to my head. I realized that while to me this was never a game and I while what I feel is raw and real ~ while I never played pretend ~ if your philosophy is that life is a game a congratulations is order. A titanic and enthusiastic, “Well done!”
You are ~ as I am convinced you will always be ~ the winner. Smooth and cool, very ‘pimp.’ Standing here ~ feeling this ~ and there is no one to blame other than myself. You never lied ~ never out right gave any reason to fathom a thought of what tripped me out being mutual. You in your way of smiles and laughs and half sentences or lightly spoken overtures. You are very ~ very good. I am ~ in some twisted way ~ impressed.
As a testament to your skills I am also addicted ~ I will do this forever. Wait for your boredom or lack of alternatives to cause you to look for me. After a week or month or several when you called I’d die of sheer elation and relief and tear myself form anything to be near you.
That’s why I have to ask you for a favor. It wont cost you anything or change your life in anyway. You’ll not suffer the ache or emptiness ~ you won’t even notice. For me ~ could you not call me, because forever if you call I will answer and I will come and I will twist myself to please you and I will hurt because I am not enough. I will call ~ I know I will ~ I will want to hear your voice and feel the high only you can give. Forever thinking, hoping, * that we might again collide in just the right way.
I was hoping since I cannot turn you off and nothing will erase you from me ~ maybe you could do it to me ~ it shouldn’t be too hard.
I was sick to my tummy, I hated to breathe. My head felt dizzy and my heart hurt so very bad. I shook when I gave it to her. I was in a way commiting suicide ~ to loose her was going to kill me. She read it and her cheeks flushed scarlet. Her green eyes brighter because of the red around them. "So you don't want me to call you."
I look at her and my stomach knots into a twisted ball of hurt. "You could not read that and think I don't WANT you to call. Yes, I want you to call ~ ALWAYS. I need you not to, I NEED you to turn me off."
She stands up angerly and sits when I ask her to. She clenches her jaw with madness and relaxes when I remind her that she promised to be nice. She takes a moment and then looks up at me. "No."
Tears are burning my eyes and I tremble harder. "No, what?"
"No, I cannot do that, I will not fulfill that request."
There are tears now, which she ask me not to cry and I am trying to honor that. I demand again and again ~ i need to know why she wont just leave me to feel this agony as it rips me apart.
Her beautiful voice, "We are a certain kind of soul mate. I have to know you and talk to you."
Those words and that thought both completes my heart destroys me.
I believed that with all of my being. I believe it still ~ it's why I cannot walk away. Why she always makes it better. Even now, as she makes it worse.
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