11811

1-18-11
My apartment smells like cigarettes and it is reminding me of you, but not in a way I would like to be reminded of anyone. Keeps coming through the windows even when they’re closed, just like you. Finding a way in when I was sure I had destroyed all access. Silly you, silly me for thinking there was a way to get away from you. I wear your memory like some haunted effigy on the side of an old building recently condemned. No sense in saving something bent on it’s own demise. No sense in saving much anything at all these days.

I cherish more than anything, more than I ever should… those waking moments between now and never. I dream about you when you’re away and I don’t want to be near you when you’re here. You are constantly elusive to my train of thought, and yet simultaneously all I think about. To be both the protector and the protected of my imagination is so much more than I would ever allow myself to ask of you, and yet here we are still. It’s like the creator put magnets in the both of us and no matter how far I throw you, I always find myself next to you again. Some cruel game of cat and mouse and I can’t see a way out, not that I would take it if there ever were. These times are unfair to all but at least in return I can hold onto your smile and your eyes and the way you look at me. I wish for once, just once you would say what you’re thinking instead of just leaving me in this deafening silence. All I can hear are my own thoughts and the rhythm of your breath when you fall asleep well before me. I don’t know what I want from you and more importantly I don’t know how to ask for it, and I am pretty sure; you have nothing to give anyway.