These Demons Are in Great Shape

Here we go again.

It’s amazing how it’s the same theme now as the times months ago. It’s worse now. So much worse. She is my boss again and I see her every day and I miss her when she’s not there, and I listen to all that goes on around me and I wait for the opportunity to interject myself because that is who I am. It’s who I am. It’s who I am.

I want so many things out of this relationship that I cannot keep it all “straight” in my head. But I think most of all I do not want it to be straight. But I am afraid of what else it might be. I am nervous. Anxiety keeps me up at night. I cannot stop thinking about it all and how it will all end. Because it will all end, no matter how unfair that feels. And then she will be gone with her cute little family. Gone for good.

She is leaving in just over two months and I am already mourning the loss. I am already mourning what could have been. I am mourning the friendship that could have been. I am mourning the lover I wanted. I am mourning the what ifs and if onlies.

I cannot sleep. It’s been weeks now. I try to play it off like it’s my dad or my job, but really, it’s her. I’ve been here before. Usually it dies down by now, but for some reason this one is stuck in my craw. It’s like I know I’m alive again. But it’s a tortured reality.

She can sing! Oh, can she sing! And I want to listen to her for hours. And I want to be the one she sings for and to. I want to be the one she worries about when she cannot sleep at night. What a boost it would be to think she even thinks of me at all. Last night she sent me a text message and it’s like my skin was set on fire. I flushed right there in my seat, quietly cherishing the 15 word message lit up on my phone.

I am pathetic. I am in pain. I am tortured. I am in love with a girl, again. I think.

It will never be enough. I want to consume her and have her consume me. I want to know she thinks the same things that I think of her. I want to know there is a “maybe, but only if…” on her end as well. I am sad that I will not see her on Monday or on Tuesday or on Wednesday. And I will miss her on Monday and on Tuesday and on Wednesday.

I want to live in the moment, but only if I can live in it with her.

These words will never be enough.