Prose

VIII

I'm stuck dammit. I'm stuck.

I'm stuck loving a self concerned, conceited, oblivious, ignorant bastard.

I'm stuck and I can't get out. I've wished on a million 11:11s and the stupid stars that come in every other night after I come home from the movies or church and I look up like an idiot and I wish.

God, it sounds stupid. I wished for you. I used your name. I used specifics. Just like the stars and the time would be on my side and somehow get you to love me.

Hell, I really am no better than you ever were.

I've wished you loved me or talked to me and I never knew you. I never knew you! But I swore I loved you. I swore and I swore and hell I thought I did.

I do, dammit, I do.

And I hate you so much. I'll wish tonight on 11:11 that I can forget you. It won't be the first time.

I'll look up at the faded stars and I'll drop to my knees if I have to and I'll pray to God and the angels and the very stars that I can forget you. I will burn your signature. I will delete every picture. I will do what I have to. I will forget you.

I will forget that I ever loved you dammit, I will.

I will forget you even if it means forgetting myself.

March 24, 2014 7:57pm