I stood there, bathed in the unholy glow of fluorescent lighting. The rhythmic drip of the kitchen faucet entranced me, paralyzed by the things in my head. The dishes in that sink, the wash of light. It's such a sobering, regular feeling being here, hungry, not hungry, not really knowing what's needed and not feeling allowed to want.
There's freedom in truth, and I think a deep part of Mike wanted me to find out that I was not afforded it in plain sight. I can't get the mail and the gift wrap out of my head, knowing that I won't be in that place again, and feeling the comfort and sense of passion he made me feel. He woke me up here in this place I chiseled a home from. Taught me how to open up and fall, how to rebuild myself and how to not care about anyone who tried to show me how. He gave me a voice.
And THAT is the highest brand of seduction.
I wish i wasn't always in need of such... rescue. But saying goodbye afforded me another truth: that I in fact can save myself. I'm looking forward to making you a memory. And you'll never hear me sing.
Falling in love, should never mean falling behind. Little by little less and less: I dont write much about you at all...but i think thats because you made me happy. Im trying to prepare for when it all has to go away.
I wish.
A little less.
Current Music: Colin Hay - "I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You"
