Losing it.

He was next to me, on his stomach. The curtains covering the large
window were pushed to the side. The world sat still before us. My
face held up by my hands as I stared into the early morning. He
watched me intensely. He sang softly with the music. Something about
needing a woman. Naked limbs occasionally brushed one another as the
fan pushed the heat away. My hair, loose and wild blew gently in the
quiet breeze. His fingers occasionally seeking out some piece of flesh
as if he was reassuring me that he still wanted me there, in his home,
his room, his bed. Or maybe he was pushing me far away. I couldn't
touch him back, it would be the same as admitting defeat. He had me. I
fell for him but I could never let him know it.

I wondered how anything would ever be the same, even if he did come
back. No boy, no man could ever make me feel like this, could tell me
a ten thousand things without speaking one word. I'm not afraid of
love, just afraid of loosing it and of being incapacitated by its
absence.

This wasn't ever supposed to be forever. Whatever is between us has
had a definite end from the beginning. I'm not sure my problem comes
from ignoring it for too long or worrying about it too soon.

Now I can only wonder how it will all end. Wondering is no use,
because I know. I'll walk out his front door never having said what I
wanted to all along and he'll disappear. When he comes back, I will be
gone. It's funny because sometimes it feels like he's betraying me but
it isn't about that, this isn't about me at all. He's living his life
and I can't be angry about that. When we met, we knew that this was
just to pass the time, to fill the long and lonely winter. But I'm
afraid that somewhere, somehow it became a little more than that. We
refused to acknowledge it only because we knew it'd be over before we
knew it.

And now, I just want to be alone. I can't decide if I should go buy a
giant canvas and some turpentine and paint this other thing that is
trying to crawl out of my head or go buy groceries. Both are
completely unnecessary but somewhat compelling. Both require possible
interaction with people and I don't know if I want to deal with that.
I might just start screaming "you couldn't possibly understand" and
have a tantrum on some cold, dirty, linoleum floor. That wouldn't be
so good. Either that or where ever I decide to go will be closed and I
might hit some stationary objects with my shiny silver car.

My mom called, she wants me to come home to watch the fireworks. I just can't.