All Fall Down...
I'm being overpowered by a strong sense of guilt. Actually, it's not that overpowering. Somewhere, at the back of my head, it keeps nagging me. All my life, I've made a conscious effort never to hurt or use anyone. I've been hurt and abused by people many times over. This has made me highly cynical and detached, especially when it comes to people.
I used to be a cry baby and would feel too much, get stamped, would reveal what disturbed me all the time. Honesty was my policy and I never hid anything. Now that after a broken marriage (a perfect love of seven years shattered by a man's cowardly dreams), I'm finally healed of that and in a relationship with a sensitive, adorable and honest man, I find myself becoming as cold as I accused other people to be.
I know somewhere I'm still a die-hard romantic, but I cannot afford failure once again in my life. The word marriage makes me sick and want to throw up. The confusing part is that I think it's an amazing concept, it's about building a family again, because your present one will not always survive till you do. But because I've seen marriage destroy the most perfect love I know of (I've seen a lot of couples, but me n R were soulmates, inseperable and unbreakable), I shudder at the thought of it.
I love this new man in my life. At least I think I do. But love changes over time. I know that now much better than most people. And while he laughs and I laugh with him, he doesn't know what I'm thinking. He doesn't know that I believe that sooner or later it'll end. I want to tell him, but I can't. I'm lonely, and I've given so much to people, that now I want to be selfish. If I'm getting love and affection and giving equally in return, why should I let it go? Even if I know it won't last. But these constant reassurances are tiring me. It's like a pack of cards on the table. I keep looking, knowing sooner or later it'll crumble. So, a devilish side of me could poke a finger, and help it crumble. That way I can rest my eyes finally and go lie down in the other room - my empty room.
Am I right in continuing? Why not, maybe the cards won't fall at all? (That's the romantic talking) But maybe secretly, do I desire them to fall? Am I too numb or pretending to be? He won't know. Maybe he doesn't need to either. It's the moment that lasts. Nothing else does in life. I call myself "The Collector of Moments". I pack them all in my bottle and I'm off. And while I lie next to him and watch him watching me, isn't that what matters eventually?