No longer as truthful as should be deserved, some names, places and events deliberately vague to protect identities that aren't mine

Saturday, 15 May 2010

Here with me

(Yes emo eddie is back in full swing, well not full swing, i'm depressed, rather than having a depressive episode, but still...)

You say you're there if I want, or need to talk.  You're there for me.  You're giving 110%.    But it never feels like it...

I call.  I send random messages if I see you online.  I suggest we go out for dinner, or to the cinema, or anything vaguely resembling a date, or just a nice night out.  You don't call.  You can't call.  I, and probably you, don't even know if your landline can call me.  You always leave your phone somewhere and come back to it 8 hours later.  I could never trust that part of me around you.  I could never let you be my one phonecall, or my emergency contact, because I don't know that you'll be at the end of a phone.  Not because you're busy.  Because you're just not at the end of a phone like the other 95% of people in my life.  And yet you know I'm the sort of person, who would gladly drop everything to travel halfway around the world on the next flight, not the next available flight, the next flight there was, I would argue my way onto it, for anyone who asked it of me.  You always wait for me to call, even when things are bad, its my responsiblity, because it just is.  You never start those conversations.  Even if you, or I, or we, really really need one.  It's easier to just let it go, and wait till I'm better again.

When I'm better, I haven't fixed things.  I've just forced myself to be okay with them; that "pretending everything's okay" trick of mine?  I do that 24/7 (on which note, see last post).  I've just forced myself to be okay with it, even if I'm not.  Because the first thing I ever learnt from pains of the heart, was that you don't always get the outcome you want, no matter how long you wait, no matter how much you want it, no matter how much you fucking deserve it, all you have, is you.  You have to deal with it, you have to answer those questions, by yourself, because no-one else will help you.  And I'm learning it all over again with you.

Sometimes I'm not in this thing.  But then neither are you.

Mood: See last post, this one is connected, in case it wasn't bleedin' obvious.

Music: More Einaudi

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