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I think I don't know
Communication should be easier,
yet is seems so much more difficult. I know
what I want to say…I think.
I talk to everyone else about what I think I desire for our future.
When I see you, I don’t speak my mind at all. It seems
like things change. Prehaps
I don’t know what I want, or is what I want constantly changing?
I presume I should be more self-aware.
How are you supposed to know what I want? I don’t think I know
what it is that I want.
You leave soon…maybe…
Leaving would make things easier. It would no longer matter
what I wanted if you had to leave. Is that what I am
waiting for? I know you are going to leave.
Could I handle your departure?
It seems like I see you all the time now.
But I noticed the puny five days that you had vanished. Not really
vanished I guess. I saw you -ish, I talked to you -ish,
and I was hurt –ish.
I don’t think you knew you were gone.
I am constantly realizing how much weaker I am
than I had originally thought. It becomes
so much more obvious to me when you are around; I cower down.
Even if I don’t know what I want, doesn’t it help
to talk? Hash it out.
I think I’m afraid of what you might say…terrified
of what you won’t say.
You know what I’m talking about. I can see,
you just as scared as me.
wondering what we might be… or not.
You apologize like you know there needs to be a change. It seems to help
mask whatever problems we have.
Will this bandage last? Probably not.
I don’t think we can’t expect gauze to heal a wound
that needs stitches.
It seems so obvious that we need to converse
about something other than TV shows and poker.
But we don’t really talk. We don’t know
one another. We got naked often,
for a few minutes, then no more. Why do I seem so
hell bent on sewing this up? It wasn’t a masterpiece
at any point. But it was something different
for me. I think like the feeling
of being wanted, but is it more than that?
I am beginning to realize
that what I want matters. I still
don’t know what I want. But we do need to talk. For sure
you see this. Your actions show that to me.
But we don’t talk. Probably won’t talk. Unless
one of us starts the conversation. I don’t
know how to start. You
ask me questions, but never seem to have a reply
for my answers…when I answer.
I don’t think this will work, because it makes no sense.
But knowing you are escaping soon
might be what is holding my knowledge back.
I don’t think this will go anywhere.
But, “we need to talk.”
