They always love me more in the beginning than I want them to. Uncomfortable, I push them away, feeling as if my skin has shrunk and I no longer fit. “Don’t touch me!” bounds from my mouth. I watch their eyes flinch, just a little, around the edges. I hurt them, I can’t stop myself. I let them close, and then flit away. I need to know that they will take all of the abuse I heap upon them in order to let down my guard. They want me more, they take everything on. I'm a challenge. They’ve seen the worst and stayed, so now I can love them. I ignore one too many wounded looks, I don't notice them pulling away. I finally let go, let them in, commit to love, and the very moment I need it, I lose whatever sway I had. Shit.
I love the ending. Shit. It could be a child in foster care, a woman pushing away the men in her life (or vice versa). What a lovely image.
ReplyDeleteI love it when you write. I can always feel physically what you are trying to portray.
ReplyDeleteThis reminded me of what my friend keeps saying that as long as she doesn't really care, men love her but once she really falls in love and lets her guard down, they start hurting her. Well done.
ReplyDeleteOh, this word, this word is brutal! I'm pretty sure I have an idea of what (or who) inspired you and I am afraid (if I am right) I am doing the same thing. Yikes!
ReplyDeleteLove this, especially the end.
ReplyDeleteExcellent use of "shit." I enjoyed this.
ReplyDeleteexcellent!
ReplyDeleteYou like me you like me you like me you like me
ReplyDeleteOk, I like you, too.
Hey, where did you go?
This hits home. Thanks!
Thanks for contributing again this week. This is a powerful little piece. The comments above mine show that I'm not the only one who thinks that. Your writing always hits home. Looking forward to more next week!
ReplyDelete