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Worthy I Thought.. I think what is bothering me the most is realizing how little I truly know about you. How, so easily, I chose to reject my own judgment and senses that keep me. I inserted the almost seamless cloak of flaws and traits and interests you began to provide. Hindsight is as hindsight does- I accepted this forgery of Self, and I have continued to until I could no longer pretend the veil you provid IS your truth.
I, still, this very second want to pretend that what you offer as Self and what I see and feel in and of you are the same. My justification for blatant ignorance is two fold. One, it was obvious that like me, you needed that particular skin of yours to be. For sanity and serenities sake. I know this particular way of walking all too well. Two, in all honesty it was easier to allow myself to take the veil of skin you offer, and with respect, I treated it as truth rather than understanding the who, what, when, where and why of someone other than myself. You were not offering any other verison.
I wouldnt say it was laziness that fostered the ingorance necessary on my part. My own situational folds in the fabric of my Self are complex, deeply dark and stress riddled. This, keeps me well stocked in answerless riddles, puzzling pieces and dank rabbitted pockets of inky blackness in need of exploration within the heaviness of this drapery I call my own. I keep busy. Me, Myself and I were then and still now, enough for outright boredom to find no room for occupancy within me.
There we were, all three of us bedraggled and exhausted in our own separate ways, standing in a dingy, litter strewn lot of an Indian owned convenience store. Dark settling around us with certain familiarity. There was a hiss and pop of the parking lot floodlights coming on. The light closest to us flickered off and on frantically as if someone, or thing, was sending out a desperate SOS through its wires for help that may never come.
Belief is more powerful than those with the knowledge of Self will admit to. For excellent, timeless reasons. And well, those without that knowledge aren't missing anything. All is as it should be.
I had no idea who you were. Not then. I know now, that what was the solidity of character portayed is not your Self. Ivknow less of you now than in the beginning. I cant breathe. The carbon dioxide digs into my lungs cells REFUSING to be exhaled. This hot burning sensation floods my chest and the tears run. I can no longer see anything but blurry salted water. Im choking on the truth cannot see.
Nothing anyone has offered, speakibg of you is accurate. Not the mundane, daily grind infomation of bosses or coworkers Not the infamous reputation that precedes you damn near every where in our travels together. No. Not even the list of character facets people who've known you for, well, forever NOT EVEN them can attle off if asked about your nature. You. But they speak of not you, too.
You. Not you. How was I supposed to understand this? After this much time has passed inveach others presence. Every. Single. Day. For nineteen months. No. NO. .... Im choking on my breath . My heart is bruising my organs pounding. Erratic and painfully shooting tention up to my neck every time i attept to try to wrap my mind around the ugly silenced separation of your self from your Self. Curdled something rises in my esophagus wanting to be ejected violently through my lips. My stomache is doing to my lunch what my brain wishes it could do to the unavoidsble intrusion of fact. I. I.... But... then question begin to form and this silent dance of partnership between us is no longer in step. Faltering and jerky are the motions becoming created from us now. I am..... I just... my chest aches. The veil you gave of you, is waiting to be tossed aside. The angered dormancy of refusal to shed this yourself stares at me with boredom and disgust. The happy blind trust I held for your word turns into humiliating shame I cannot shed. I realize I am expected to finish breaking down the facade of us on my own. I am expected to pull the rest of your rotted and lie ridden veneer away. You simply cannot be bothered. Shame falls quicky from my psyche and cold anger slides in and stares back at you with calculated withdrawal.
No. I dont fucking think so.
From the very beginning of us, that Friday evening when we ran into each other in a gas station parking lot through a mutual friend i knew then what I was seeing. Standing before me was a thin, lanky creature with georgous green eyes and a crooked smile that told me more than all of your words spoken (and they were charismatic and hypnotizing to a into my ear totaled up to this very moment, almost two years later. Yes I knew the of folded layers of complexity standing before me. It was suprisingly familiar. So familiar in fact it seemed to be a setup. There was no way i was being introduced to another with a soul of the same thickened fabric as my own. No. Not here. Most DEFINITELY a trap. Of what sort, or whose... details I could fixate on later.
