Addiction

A flicker of hope.  A flash of happiness.  There are no promises. I see that now. There is only the pursuit of a life together.  My dreams of an “us” hasn’t yet died.  You gave it new meaning yesterday.  Perhaps I am foolish for buying into your angelic looks and the heavy sighs on the other end of the line.  But without optimism, I feel we will die right then and there. 

I want it to be me. I want so much for you to pick me to run home to. I want you to always be in my life. When I see your smile, your beautiful face and body, a flood of memories rushes through me.  Do you feel it too?  Do you know that we need to be together? I want you to love me more than anything. I want you to feel confident by my side.  To be the father of my children.  To always be my mountain.  I have faith in life. I have hopes for us.  I dream that we will be together, that it will all work out in the long run.  I’m scared that it won’t. Frightened actually.  But I have to trust fate.  I have to believe that it will work itself out.  The patience is trying.  It’s a vice I’ve been having to hone for a while now.  Your unpredictable nature, I get it now.  I’m not sure I like it, but I can’t say I hate it enough to not want to be with you.  I can’t give up yet. I can’t let you go until all other avenues and alternatives have been exhausted.  I truly, truly want you in my life…forever.  My heart fills with joy the minute I see you.  


He drive me crazy, he really does.  He makes me do unthinkable things to myself.  But he is a drug.  And like an addict, all I want is more. 

Punching Pillows

WTF. That's all I have to say to myself. I want to punch your guts out.
I wish deep down that I never had the pleasure of meeting you.
Heartbreak. Confusion. Distress.

You. Are. A. MIGRAINE. Your fire boils my water - in all the wrong ways.
Yet here I am, still steaming, fuming by your side. I'm not sure it will
last much longer. I am afraid of letting go. Terrified; nervous even.
But by mid-year's end, it will all be a thing of the past.

Screaming only hurts my lungs. Metal merely cuts my skin.
Nothing can comfort me and you are not here to scold or chide.
So my unsuspecting target gets punched - until the feathers
fly around the room, tickling the senses and aggravating my lungs.

The painful throbbing that jabs into my temples is all because of you.
Your selfish infuriating habits and disregard to the sensitivities of life
cause me unbelievable pain. Ugggggghhh!

My poor poor pillow- now an empty shell, no longer able to comfort my
resting head. It sits there beside me, unlike you, and stares at me
with black mascara stains...memories of this frustrating relationship
just waiting to be etched into my mind.