You: Baby, what’s wrong?
Me: Nothing. I don’t feel like talking about it.
You: But if it’s nothing how can it even be something to talk about?
You: Call me when you’re ready to talk about it
Call you when I’m ready? What if I’ll never be ready or willing to talk about it with you? Do I just never call you back or hear from you again? The truth is that it is nothing. Nothing that concerns you and everything to do with me. Personally. Solely. Just me. It has everything to do with how I think and how simple little things I should look forward to have become meaningless in the fight you are trying to wage with my mental.
You see, my mental is merely waiting. Waiting for the next time you fuck up. And waiting for the next big fight. Waiting for another reason as to why you can’t do this or can’t do that. Waiting for your #epicfail so I can raise my defenses one more gain and take cover in the inner recesses of the coldest places of my heart. A place too cold that many can’t withstand for too long and wonder why or how. How could I possibly be this way and why do I prefer this place to the warmer, more practical locations I used to frequent when I was much much younger and way less tainted. Tainted, yes, even by you.
You: I wasn’t expecting an answer, care to talk?
Me: Nah, I’m busy. I’ll call in a bit.
You weren’t expecting an answer and I wasn’t expecting a phone call. Funny, because despite the proof that you care and that you’re thinking. About. Me. Maybe, even only me. I still doubt. It. Everything. You. Us. We. Can this even be? Can you be the mysterious he that I was told would come along some day and change my perception of reality? A reality that once was filled with…nothing….but. Nothing happy, yet nothing all too sad? I don’t understand because I expected you then but instead. Nothing. And now you wish to be. Everything?
This just won’t do. I can’t blame you for my past. But. What was done in the past has not disappeared. And like you wish the past were to me, you sir, were not. There. Until now. But. Now is too late. As now my expectation went from a level TEN. SEVEN. FOUR. TWO. To None. To NEGATIVE You. Back To ZERO, still NO hero. Now it’s just at sheer disappointment. As my expectation for all things good. All things romantic. All thing YOU and all things Me. We. Us. Everything. Has turned to dust and transformed into sheer but very there DISAPPOINTMENT.
Not the best attempt, but a first attempt at something I just don’t do. Let me know your thoughts. Be brutal. Be honest. Be you as I do this just for…
About Carla Clunis
You can find more of Carla’s musings on love and relationships at www.theheartmalfunctions.com where she blogs about the ups and downs of dating and relating.
—— By: Carla Clunis