05. SELF-SABOTAGE

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by gardeniaspara

by gardeniaspara

"Do you not realize the things that you're saying?
How each word you mouth has her weighing
The affectionate words that you say,
Tilting them on a scale, unknowing where her heart should lay?
Do you not realize these are things that a normal person,
Out of love, does not say so simply? It's arson,
What you commit-- it's giving too much passion.
Do you not realize?"

My nails dug into my skin.
The thought of you with them—
It burned deeper than I wanted it to.
"Why would she say that?"
"Some people like to test the waters— maybe she was testing you."

I half-heartedly laughed.
"Your eyes— if you could see them right now—"
"It's fine—"
"But it's not. You're laughing, but your eyes got this deadly stare within them—"
I felt the glare. I felt it as I looked at Friend.
I felt the narrow of my eyes,
I felt that fire in my stomach.
The jealousy spiraling in my heart.
"I think this affects you more than you want to admit."
"It's not. I'm not entitled to who her eyes gaze upon—"
"You're not. But you still feel it, don't you? Imagining someone's gaze on her— imagining someone looking at her the way that you do.
It angers you, doesn't it?
You want her to yourself—
That possessiveness—"
"Enough."
Friend sighs.
"I do not envy you."
"I do not envy me either."

But it'll pass.
This feeling will pass.
It's passed for everyone else.
It'll pass for you, too.
It'll hurt— but I'd rather have all that hurt to myself
If it means saving you from this pain.

"She can't be that clueless— she has to know how you feel."
"I get the feeling she knows."
"It's painfully obvious— especially with everything you say."
I only played with my straw, looking down.
"Have you ever asked yourself what if she felt the same way?"

Of course I have.
But my indulgence in conformity has limited any amusement to the idea.
"She doesn't," I smiled.
"You don't know that—"
I shrugged, clearing my throat.
"What will you do if she does? Hm? If she has the same feelings for you? What will you do?"
"Act like I don't feel anything, of course."
"But what if she knows how you feel— what if she says, 'Darling of mine, I feel just as strongly for you!'"

What I've always done.
What I've always done when it came to women I've loved.
"Run away," I said without any hesitation.
Friend raised their eyebrows.
"Run away? How?"
"I'll cut all contact. It's happened before, I know how it'll go so might as well cut to the chase."
"But that's not fair for her—"
"Not fair?" I laughed.
"Yeah, she deserves to know why she's not hearing from you!"
"She won't ask."
"How do you know that?"
"She didn't ask for me whenever I didn't see her for two months. She didn't ask for me when I didn't see her for two weeks. She won't ask for me when I go disappearing out of her life—"
"But she still missed you—"
"Not enough to look for me."
Friend called me by my name, their eyes filling with anger.
"It'll hurt, but ultimately, I know how I get. It's happened before," I shrug.
"With whom?"
Silver hair, baby blue eyes.
I smile and shake my head.
"I just know how this will play out."

I've already envisioned it.
How things would be if you'd grace me with your heart:
You'd say that you like me,
And I'll deny having any feelings for you.
You'll grow frustrated, glare at me.
But ultimately, I'll lock eyes with you.
And you'll tell me to show you how I feel.
I'll only look at you—
My eyebrows creased.
But ultimately, it'll end in my arms wrapped around you,
Kissing your neck,
Worshiping every ounce of you,
Holding you tightly—
Whispering sweet nothings into your ear,
Telling you how badly I'd wanted you this near.
You're not one that's used to physical touch,
But right then and there,
Both of our rationalities will be out the door.
And I'll hold you close to my lap,
Before one of us pulls apart—
And all will be blissful—
Just for the guilt to begin the next day.

Then I'll keep my distance from you.
And you will be oblivious to the inner battle im having,
You will begin to trust me,
Begin to think: "This person might love me truly",
But the waging war will only become more violent
Inside of my head.

"Eso es maldición,

Todo lo que haces,Y eres."

I'll begin to rub my face as one burdened with guilt often does,
My hands will shake as they've shaken whenever I speak of you.
The reality of what we'd done will finally sink in.

"It's best not to initiate in any of it," I speak now,
Full of integrity and rationale.
"I've never cared deeply about hurting the other person before— but with her, I do care.
She's innocent in that,
We see each other for the children that haven't healed.
Perhaps it's selfish,
But she's a friend I can't lose.
She who brings that child—
She who helps me heal.
I can't lose that—
Not for some silly game of exploration.
I saw her crying once—
It felt awful and made me want to weep myself.
So imagine how I'll feel if I know
I'm the reason for her hurt?
I've felt bad about others— but hurting her will
Physically hurt me too."
Friend gave me an empathetic look.
"I do not envy you—"
"I do not envy me neither."