Let's Not Speak Before The Meds Kick In

When we're carefree, everything makes sense. We are awkward and gentle and kind and the summer days wait long before opening the door for nighttime. A smile is permanently plastered on our faces and all laughs come from the soul, not from the thought of being fake. I'll hold your hand just as quickly as I'll take a breath. I am yours and I made you mine. You're the biggest dork I know and flaunt it like it's a badge to brag about.

When we grow older, we start to ask questions. Living the life isn't just following directions. We are still awkward, but we hide it from all, our once soft hands are now blistered and tired and they can no longer hold on to something that isn't there. Our words become bitter and angry and tears mean nothing to us unless they are our own. We laugh still, but only to make a good impression. You push me to be someone I don't want to be and I push your hand away in disgust. I am your pain in the ass and you make my head hurt. I wouldn't show you off to anyone.

When we believe we have grown up, we fight for the answers to questions no one has heard of. We make our own rules and beg that others respect them. We are no longer awkward for we know who we are and like to think that we're ok with what we've become. Our hands are graceful, yet strong, and reach for the things we know we are going to make out of our lives. We speak as if to demand respect, but it's only because we have been hurt before and now think we know how to evade it. When the tears are forced to flow, they burn like never before because they are so rare these days. We smile warmly and only belly laugh ever so often. I have slammed the door, but you keep it cracked. I have told you that I never wanted it, and you swear that you want it still. I am your hope for the future, and you are the anchor that is making me drown. If I could get away with it, I would leave you here and never look back.

And then I saw him. Not a beacon of light, or a rescue swimmer, but someone to simply say “we don’t need to fix you”.

I want to tell you about him, but it would make you hurt me more. And I want to tell him about you, but I'm frightened that he won't understand that you are not my fault.

You're killing yourself and taking me down with you.

Cut the line and let me drift.