what made me think it was a good idea?
i think i must chase pain for its little thrills. there’s just no other explanation.
you’re not as fussed, though i’m not sure you know how much i love you. the problem’s me. again. and i can’t stop my churning gut from heaving.
fear is not a strong enough word to describe this violent smashing of glass inside.
i’m in a daze, a momentary lapse where all thought is illusion.
i pounded the streets by myself this morning. thank god for all his little offerings. i feel lighter now, somehow.
and i saw the sunrise today, but looking at the oranges and pinks merge, i felt sick. i barely slept: five hours of restless turning, waking and then falling into a half-conscious state, where dreams merge with reality.
and all because we went to your friends little gathering yesterday.
your ex was there.
it was all so last minute, i’m sure it was her that convinced him to invite us. she had it all planned, no doubt.
we had WKD and pringles and your friend’s mum’s wine and somewhere in between the truth and dare and spin the bottle all mixed into one, i kissed your ex. and so did you. and then you both laid on my bosom. my harem.
it was all jokey and fun and whatnot else, but it’s not how i approach my relationships. it’s not how i roll. and what if this pulls us apart? you felt guilty kissing her, you said. i didn’t. it was all so absurd i almost couldn’t believe it was true.
but it happened.
and we left just before clock stroke midnight, because i guess there’s a cinderella lost in me, and you held me tight a few steps away from the house and kissed me fevereshly. adrenaline of fear had washed our bodies: we could have kissed all night.
and i don’t regret any of it.
so why do i feel so broken inside?