The Torture.

Torture is literally the only word that I can think of right now. Well not at this exact moment. At that moment, though, when I was thinking of this word and of how your words were doing such a thing, was all I could think. I passed over that bright blue shirt four times and I almost hit that security guard twice.

     That torture that ensued from your mouth and into my ears is so real, and I screamed, when you thought the phone cut out and I hit mute. I screamed when I was alone, with that song up all the way and I'm pretty sure with Monica by my side, I'll cry a little bit tonight as the knife digs deeper, grows a serrated edge and twists in my side. The pain will become unbearable and I'll think about replacing the metaphorical knife with a couple of real ones. I don't need any more scars though. They weren't worth the trouble. I also think, furthermore that you aren't worth the trouble to be in any kind of depressed state, but I have to let myself be human a little bit don't I? I do, indeed. I'm tired of being a robot. Your robot.

     Scratching my nails against a chalk board and plucking my eyes out, I wait.
     I wait for a sign from my own mind that it's ok for me to move on and stop crying.
     I don't think it will come though, in the foreseeable future, and maybe I will be alone and sad forever.
     Maybe I will miss you just a touch more than I had previously thought.
     Or maybe I'll give in and go back, but no, no you promised.
     And your promises are good, mine aren't though, so I won't even bother.

     How dare you treat and talk to me that way!? Can't you see that this has nothing to do with me wanting to leave and hurt you. You think that, sure but you're so blind and ignorant. Even that damn wolf wouldn't frighten me to silence now. I've had enough & I'm screaming, out loud in my own head and I'm tearing every single shred of evidence that you ever existed in my eyes and in my world, you will fall through the cracks.
 
     Perhaps I've said to much, or perhaps I've pulled my punch and you will recover. I don't know which makes me more sad. That I can't tell you what I'm thinking or that I'm hurting you in the process. You're so fragile though. You're like a beautiful plate that's so fragile it can only be cleaned by hand. That's exhausting though. You wore me out and you never saw it. I was dead tired and I missed out on so much and I was growing tired of feeling like I HAD to answer your call. I wanted to want to answer all of them, but I knew that the second I answered it or the second I let you know I was online, something would be wrong and I would have to fix it. Every problem has a solution, sure. Not every problem, though, is a problem worth fixing.

     There are two colors in your world, the quality is bad and the good channels are always fuzzy. You're expecting someone or something to fix the bad t.v. and channels? I'm telling you, that you can fix it. It's a fact, those that are truly happy AND can see in color, did it for themselves, and sure they had help and people that supported them. I can't deny that. Support though, is never an excuse to lean so heavily on someone else. LISTEN TO ME.

     That day, I woke up as a cave dweller, my eyes were burned by light and my skin crawled in reaction to heat and open air. I awoke, able to see the difference between dark and light. I woke up free to hurt myself in exploration. I didn't have anybody hovering over me, waiting to take away my fun because that was theirs. Freedom isn't the opportunity to tell someone what to do to make you happy. Freedom is what allows you to do what makes you happy. I have freedom, and so do you. You abused your freedom with threats and rules against me. I tried my best to use my freedom to be happy. I know that I can't do that with you, because you limit my freedom. I just want to be Free, my love. Jane I just want to be able to come home and not feel like I have to love you. I tried just doing so, and it always felt like a job. It wasn't worth it. I'm sorry. Goodbye.