Put me out of my misery… (not everything is about you).
She used to say, ‘If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.’ I wonder what she would have said if she hadn’t followed that advice herself. I’m sure she would have had a lot to say to me.
I have nothing to say right now, nice or otherwise. I’m too drained to talk to anyone, even the people I care most about. I’ve let a lot of people down recently. I know this, yet I can’t find the words to make it up to them.
A newcomer to a chorus line of understudies. I’ve been too eager. I didn’t realise I was stepping on their toes. I will bow out graciously, I just need someone to direct me offstage. I never wanted the main part, anyway. All I wanted was for someone I cared about to tell me that I’m not totally fucking awful.
I misunderstood something important and I wasn’t corrected but now it must feel like it’s too late in the game to explain it to me. I misunderstood because I chose to believe what I wanted to hear, and because realising one thing was a lie would mean having to work out what else was a lie as well.
Perhaps I’ve been kidding myself all along. If events brought closer proximity, I would be a second choice – if I was lucky. If I was given any thought at all. And I simply can’t function as an afterthought. But, as I say, I didn’t realise. I wouldn’t be my first choice either.
I wish I didn’t care, and I wish I could just keep my words to myself. Considering the state of my wishes, I have no business meddling in the wishes of others.
Or perhaps I should stop caring and just exist solely as a genie, nothing more. I’ll make my words disappear in a puff of smoke.
There is nothing special or meaningful to look at here, only cloudiness and imperspicuity. I did try, though. I’m still trying and I don’t know why, because it’s so obvious I’ve done something wrong. I don’t know what I’m waiting for, because all of a sudden it’s become really fucking cold around here. It hurts and my heart aches with shame.
I was lying to myself.
And you too, I guess.
I honestly only have nice things to say about you. I would have rewritten reality so that I could show you how you look when viewed through my eyes – and my eyes take in a lot more than you realise. There’s something extraordinary about you, and I think you know this.
You were right about many things. I hope I can still trust you, even now.
In the wake of all the late-night conversations that got us off to sleep, I hope you know that I wasn’t faking any of it.
It all started on a Thursday.