I remember sand. Not glittering,
sparkling dunes but pure grit, choking up my nose and throat. Scratching and
scraping as I try to breathe. I’m trying to escape but something is pulling me
down. Trapped in the current. I don’t know how I got here. The last thing I
remember is sharp words, uncaring tongue, dispassionate gaze. It started out as
a gasp for help. A clearing of the throat. Looking for a tiny spark to chase
away the blackness. I thought that we were in this together. I’m always
carrying your weight, chasing down your demons and laying them to rest. I don’t
know why it’s always a shock that you just look away. Act like I’m howling and
shrieking, a rabid wolf and an angry moon. Unreasonable. And violent in my
unreasonableness. The proverb is true – no man is an island – but you’re always
happy to launch me off towards the darkness on my own. My general, average emotional
responses – the fears and stresses you find standard across the board – are not
character flaws. But your inability to deal with anyone’s emotional state is
absolutely something broken in you. How do I love someone who is devoid of
empathy? Who would rather let me drown that extend one tiny sliver of hope? The
truth of the matter is that you are the salt in my wounds. You make it so
difficult for me to heal that I sink deeper and faster into the darkness than I
ever would on my own. And instead of dragging myself out of this fucking
hopeless, passionless existence, I just let you pull me further and further
away from land, hope, love, freedom. And so I drown. And it’s no one’s fault
but my own.
