All The King's Horses And Men

It just keeps coming back to, “my mom said she doesn’t know what you see in me.” I really hope you were lying but I don’t think you were. And it breaks my heart each time it comes to my mind. I normally see the sun, moon, and stars in the guys I like, putting them on pedestals high in the sky, so that when they fall, like dear Humpty Dumpty, they completely shatter, no way to put their little parts back together. That’s the usual, and you were anything but—

To reply to your mother, I felt you more than I saw you. After it all, whatever it was or as you told me, whatever it wasn’t, I would be standing, choking on myself, catching flashes of you in my peripheral vision because I didn’t want to look at you. I couldn’t. I once told you it’s the eyes, your eyes, and while I wasn’t looking at you, you were steadfast, busying yourself not looking at me. I’ve swallowed pills and floated through that shared space, a warm, medicated smile on my face, a loud laugh, and a powerful personality I’ve wrapped around myself to protect me, cloak me, hide me, make it appear as though I’m fine. But I’m not. I will be, in some distant or maybe not so distant future, but right now—

I Fucking miss you. And to be honest, I didn’t see anything, because I didn’t let myself see anything, I knew this would happen. I knew you would eventually think, I wasn’t worth the trouble. And it’s not true, I am worth it. But I knew you would find a reason to back away. I knew you’d realize you were more comfortable dealing with what you know, instead of what you don’t. I knew it would all end, and I held tight to that so my beautiful, messy mind wouldn’t run away with you. I never pictured you in my future, because I knew your feet would never land in my present.

So I guess I didn’t see anything at all, but I'm nearly sure I could have seen almost everything.