“Midnight Musings with my Bisexual Therapist”
She makes me cry long before she pulls out the strap on.
I bite the pillow, I cry, I plead, I balk
I confess my feelings like I never had before.
She sees through the charades,
behind the veil,
behind the jester’s grin that I stitch to my face each morning.
You could say she has me pegged.
I love her but she says I don’t
Or at least not in that way.
Can a man love two people at once, I muse quietly as I sit at my computer desk in pajamas and sweat.
Maybe I don’t know what “Love” is
Maybe I never did.
Is it a feeling in the head or the heart?
Or is it lower still?
I kid, I kid.
She knows about the night terrors
I suspect she has them too.
Why else would she stay up to talk to me?
I’ve never been good company.
But she doesn’t know about the day terrors.
I fear I’m stuck in a hamster ball, spinning away my life.
Never quite reaching my destination
Although truth be told, I’m not sure where that is.
I am afraid of dying.
That maybe that’s all there is.
I’m so scared that “to live” is too close to the only word I want but doesn’t include “I”.
Is it not for me?
What have I done to deserve eternity alone?
Well, much actually...
Too soon I finish and drift off to sleep.
“Good morning madame” my parting words.
I must make another appointment soon.
There’s always more sins to confess.