Ranting

 I don’t know where to begin the words,
cleverness seems to have escaped me.
Sometimes I wonder what these nights have done to me,
consuming all these state altering drinks,
forget a few important things,
they add up,
and then I’m forgetting many things,
for some fun,
for some liquid confidence that I no longer need.

I’m young, I tell myself,
"Only 22"
To me, that sounds like time to grow up,
I know too many guys that live irresponsibly, older than me,
and run away from the things I face head on.

I want to think I still have wit, and charm.
I’m just kinda charming in that cocky way,
when I’m drunk now.
I guess that’s how this whole thing started.
I have my drunk mind to thank.
Nothing in this has started the way I meant.
Waking mouth dry next to someone I wouldn’t expect,
everything trailed off from there,
and fast,
faster than my mind could race,
and let me tell you,
it’s always running worries full blast.

He looked down at me and said 
"What’re you worrying about"
Already, he knows me too well.
I’ve kept nothing from him,
the first lie, the first thing you hold in,
is the first step to the end.

I want to speak again in a clever tongue,
put a line of imagery to spell out what I mean,
tie it all together in metaphor,
keep it cryptic and beautiful,
so everyone can make what they want of it,
but I’ll always know what it means to me.

I have nothing to spill though,
only small moments pass because of old,
because of the things I was used to,
I assume my old position as an embarrassment,
as someone easily forgotten,
someone soon to be unwanted,
and out of the blue.
I have no reasons to feel these things,
slowly, I will learn again, to not worry.
I didn’t when I had no feeling about anyone that wouldn’t forever love me,
friends, family,
There were a few people in between just to shove me back into the world,
and then there he was,
on the couch next to me,
arms wrapped around me,
that was never a beginning I would have accepted,
or would have started before.
And never did I expect it to be.

In fact, 
every step of this has been offbeat,
but in a new exciting way,
I am taking directions differently,
sometimes you don’t need time to tell you what is okay,
sometimes we just do what we’re supposed to.
Either way,
life goes,
even if this ends,
everything does,
and it’s nothing I haven’t had before.
Nothing can ever break me the same again.
I won’t let it.

And there I go,
speaking of endings.

I still feel cautious,
like I’m constantly crossing train tracks with the lights flashing,
run, or stop, run, or stop,
I’m built this way,
built to keep myself on my toes,
even when someone relieves me of it,
I stand straight back up,
wearing them down,
grinding my teeth in my sleep.

Speaking of,
my dreams have returned,
on a regular basis.
They were gone for months,
all of a sudden I’m having these bright, sharp, dreams.
And not good ones,
They’re all twisted to misunderstanding,
into nothing that makes sense,
and then they shape and shake me awake.
I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately.
Even with him.

Sunday morning I tossed for hours,
watching him roll over, back,
without even being awake he would kiss my forehead.
reach out for me.
He would twitch,
he does, when he’s sleeping,
and moves his mouth,
its such an odd thing.
I layed there, staring at the ceiling,
alone in being wide awake.
I would shut my eyes, toss about,
open them, watch out the window at my feet.
He would wake for a moment,
"baaaabe"
pull me in, hold me,
"I can’t sleep"..
"Awe…I’m sorry"…
And he’d begin to twitch, 
the sign of sleep.
I heard once that I do the same thing,
obviously I wouldn’t know.
I wanted to sit up and stare at the street,
cars passing,
early morning,
I sat up, looking at my phone,
only an hour before he had to be up,
I waited,
he woke,
apologizing again,
pulling me back to lie down next to him,
running his fingers lightly down my spine.
Mindlessly, but caringly…
I’ve never had anyone touch me in such sweet ways before,
Just run their fingers down my spine,
or my arms,
or my sides,
just to show affection,
or just to be touching me, near me.
That was always me,
being the mindlessly affectionate one,
and it always meant the world to me to be close to that person.
It’s nice to have someone feel that way about me.

Sometimes it’s different though,
I’ve learned this thing about guys when they’re away.
But for what he lacks in contact when we’re apart,
he makes up for when we’re together,
and we’re never long without each other,
and he’s always inviting me,
not doing it routinely because he thinks he has to,
or worries that I will be upset.

I think I will forever be dark in some ways though,
heartbreak can do terrible things to you,
even if you become stronger from it,
there’s that toughness, that part that scarred over,
that can never be the same.
And you can’t quite feel anything through it,
not like you should,
not like you used to,
because scar tissue becomes numb.
Nerve endings are shot,
but they never forget what it used to be like,
before they were cut and sewn back together,
string and needle running through,
trying to repair what got fucked up,
it leaves an unsightly mark upon you,
baggage, another weight in your chest of fuck ups and losses,
another one of those things that have shaped you poorly.
Made you become afraid of things.

I’ve been so odd lately,
having what I think are near hallucinations.
I don’t know,
because I don’t know how it happened,
but it’s happened three times now,
where I see something terrifying,
and shake, jolt, like electricity has bolted through my body,
and then in a split second when the fear eases,
nothing was ever there,
and I wonder if I shook from sleep,
or really just saw something.
It’s been a few days since it has happened,
I’m hoping it doesn’t come back, 
I’ve never felt so unbalanced before,
yet,
I’m happy.

When I say I’m happy,
and everyone can tell,
it doesn’t mean I’m happier,
or that I’m all better,
Or better than I was before,
but that I am just happy,
People think any state of happiness is an improvement,
"Oh…they’re happy now"
It doesn’t mean they weren’t before something fucked up happened to them,
or someone fucked them over.
At my best before,
at my happiest I’ve ever been,
I don’t think I’ve reached that yet,
and my fear is that I won’t again,
but all the worries,
all the back and fourth and twist of feelings,
well,
I feel more free of that than I ever have.

I don’t know why I’m ranting,
I wanted to say something beautiful,
but those things have had trouble reaching me lately,
I’ve been constant these days,
going about,
having somewhere to be.
I don’t think I’m running any more,
sometimes I’m afraid I can’t tell,

I think I know me now,
more than I ever have.