anthurium

I always seem to end up here.

Why can’t boundaries be a place to begin the conversation?

Use I statements. Keep telling yourself that nobody else can hurt your feelings unless you let them. The truth is, that only works if you don’t let anyone else in.

Solitude is apt to shed its charms suddenly. I grieve the loss of expectations that were never borne out by anything substantial. Fleeting feelings fold abruptly, leaving an acrid-sweet taste on my tongue.

Was it because you didn’t care? Was it because you cared too much?

Fuck subtlety. I’m sorry I can’t take a hint. Write me a letter. Call me. I’m easy. I’ll be busy abrading my ego but I can make time to rub you the wrong way.

I understand, though I’m not one for ultimatums, that sometimes this is the way things have to be. That may not be what you said, but it was what you fucking meant. Closure might as well be a four-letter word.

Mental tongue twisters and verbal gymnastics can’t flatter me into believing that you want anything to do with me. Stop trying to be polite, already.

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