Airport conversations

 

You leave me with a feeling of concern and worry. Heavy and unsettling. Your pain and sadness are spreading slowly through my body. 

We talked on the phone while you were waiting at the airport, but my overzealous ego hijacked the conversation. Ever so rationally cleaning up all loose ends. Mopping up doubts and fear. No room for hard feelings and contradictions. I cannot allow us to be tender lovers.

I don't understand why I hurt you and tell you these things that only cause pain. Why I let you leave.

Maybe it's because I can't really feel anything when I talk to you. My body is one big mess of scalding fear, so I summon ratio to scorch and seal it up before anything inappropriate spills out.

There are contradictions. I know.

Lifelong marriage, impossible if it's not broken up at a certain point to make room for transformation.

Fear (beyond measure) to imagine how it would be to jump and embrace the new. 

Shame and the prospect of intense mourning and grief. Two levers that efficiently immobilize.

The feeling that I love every pore of your skin so deeply.

The train of obsession is roaringly approaching in my back, with a force enormous and beyond control.

Nothing will ever be good enough, not even being with you. There's no calmness in love for us. 

We will remain as two burnt out car wrecks.

I wish I could die inside you. I'm already dying.