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Phone Call

Posted by melagee on August 12, 2005

it happens so suddenly. One moment you’re sitting happily making poping sounds with your lips, and the next moment you’re doing everything you can not to throw up. Your face suddenly feels heavy and you are convinced that anyone who looks at you will see how broken you are.

Something has happened to change you. Several somethings have happened to you over the years, and now each new Something is like a trigger for all the others. It’s never just one boy, one fight, one memory; it’s a lifetime of choices and regreats and always being second best.

It’s all the times you knew you were settling, and being settled for, and how you accept it every time. You remember how you could have had more, if only you had tried, and how the fear kept you from even wanting more. You stay where you are, waiting for the world to come to you, and never noticing that the world has been waiting for you. It feels as though your life has become a riddle and you have lost all will to find the answer. Perhaps you don’t even deserve an answer.

Always, whatever happened, the one thing you could rely on was the honesty of your own heart. The pure emotional truth of everything you feel, and how easy and how difficult it has always been. Even if it’s only when you’re alone, you have always had the freedom to be who you are and damn anyone who doesn’t want to hear it or see it or deal with it. You can only ever be who you are, and your feelings have always been the truest part of you. So you set them free and come to know them better that way.

But things begin to change. Something happens and you feel yourself changing. Maybe, you think, honesty is not always the best policy. Maybe sometimes you should keep your feelings caged. If the things that you feel can hurt the ones around you, maybe it’s better to keep the hurt inside and wish it away. For all that you value the honesty of your heart, maybe it would just be better to lie.

but it’s a trap. it feels like a trap.

It feels like you’re crying. It feels like tears are pouring out of your eyes and you’re sitting there doing nothing but letting them flow. But when you reach up to touch your cheeks you find them dry and cold. There is a thin film of sweat on your face, and the clammyness of it all makes you imagin that this is what it must be like for the dead. To be constantly feeling every emotion possible, but never ever being able to express them.

it’s a trap you’ve made for yourself, and you wonder why. You can find no way to balance the wisdom of your heart and your mind, and so end up feeling like no matter what you do, you’re doing it wrong. You think too much and feel too much and the two are more at odds than you realize. The duel sides of you are constantly arguing, and you wonder: how do you speak to someone who won’t listen?


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