running away without a step to take

I must relate my experiences of the last few days in a flurry of disarray, and miscomprehension. Every thought has been slashed to pieces, every mind-numbing accusation has been muted to a single dull roar. My realizations of life are rather gray. My theories of the world are even more broken, than the broken days I’ve lived before. Love is not unending, it is forever. Love is not unchanging, though. Those are the two honest answers I have found in the field of lies I’m trying to sift through. Love is all consuming, and painful, and it never ends. It’s that sick sort of torture we like to bestow upon ourselves far more than we like to wish upon others. We like it, hell we love it. We feed off the feeble feelings, and we think ourselves to be invincible when we are knee deep in its aftermath. It’s the fakest fucking feeling in the entire world. It’s the biggest lie the human race has ever dreamt up. A lie that has engulfed us all so rapidly that the majority of us never find the falseness in it’s mysterious depths. I love David. I will love him until the day I die. The love is real. What I feel is the lie.
Love changes, it grows and grows until it hits that point where it can’t possible get any bigger or the fragile little bubble housing us both inside will burst. It hits that point and that is exactly where it stays. Frozen in time. Frozen in our hearts. Our hearts don’t listen though. We wait for the love to become more, to be more, to mean more. And when it doesn’t, it hurts so badly that we simply want to run. Run straight out of this safe little bubble and pop the lie we’ve been living since day one. We want to just keep going, keep running, until the pain wears off and we can be whole again. Whole…. And inevitably alone. So is this what I want? To be alone? Just the thought scares me to death.
I’ve dreamed of what my life would be since I was a little girl. I never knew what I wanted to be, but from the time Ken made his way into my Barbie’s world, I knew that’s what I wanted. I wanted a man worthy of my time. I wanted the prince from all my Disney movies, someone to sweep me off my feet and catch me each time I was about to fall. I wanted a man that would cherish me, and love me, and never be able to bear a second without me. I wanted every happy ending all those movies sold me. There would be heartbreak, I knew that. There would be sadness, and tears, and fights. I also knew that all of this would only bring us closer together. I knew that our hearts would only grow more dependent as the hard times took their toll. What I didn’t realize was that my life was no movie, I was no princess, and of all the men out there, not one of them was a prince. I also didn’t factor in human choice, and the variety that we have waiting beyond each step we take. Some from a thousand steps back, and some from a single step forward.
Where am I going with this, you know I’m not quite sure here. What I’m try to say is that love fucking changes. One day we grow up, and we realize that what we thought we wanted and what we really want are two separate things. Who we want, and who we thought we deserved from day one are not the same man. Our dreams are far more
complicated in the real grown up world than we were ever ready to realize when we watched those princes back in grade school. Life is harder than we were told to believe. There are roads, oh so many roads. There are consequences as well. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way. For every decision you make, every action you take, or decide to walk away from there is a consequence. There is a what-if and a could’ve-been years down the road that you will by no means be ready for.
And that love you were so sure of. That man that you are so set and ready to marry, will make a mistake. That love will be tested. And every what-if and could’ve-been will rear it’s ugly head. It will be when you least expect it. It will come out of nowhere and slap you in face, leave a sick sensation in your stomach, and make you call someone you haven’t spoken to in far too long. It is in these moments when you find out who you really are. It is in those seconds, or minutes, or hours that you are lying in bed trying your hardest to sleep but can’t get the voices of years past out of your head, that you will find out who you are. You will know if your love is strong enough. You will know if it’s time to pack your bags and walk away.
The decision will be made, you might even get halfway out the door. You will look back, at him, and wonder how life go so fucked up so fast, and you will go running back to him. You will see that glimmer in his eye that made you make the biggest mistake of your life in the first place. And nothing else will matter. Not the lies. Not the pain. Not even the boy you think you could have loved somewhere else, in some other time. This love. This life, will mean more to you than anything in the entire world. I know the feeling. The feeling where all you want to do is walk away, maybe just to see if you can stand without him. If you can laugh without him, and cry less. I know what it’s like to want nothing more than to escape the life you are living and hope to god that you don’t ever have to come back.
What I know even better is the truth. Love is an ever-changing illusion. Happiness is too. And his, meant more to me in those 2.3 seconds that I thought I would be okay walking away than anything else. His eyes were bluer. His smile was sadder. His hair was sticking up in just the right, wrong way. I fell in love all over again. I fell for his realness this time. Not the fronts, or the sarcasm, or the hero I thought he could be. I fell for him. All my movie endings faded away, and I was left standing with simply tomorrow, and maybe the next day, and maybe even possibly the one after that. I was left with him. And all his mistakes, and all his lies. But I was okay. For one more day. And for once, that was enough.
Loving the lies, and the illusions, but hating my stupid self.