You say you care about me
but it's not in the way I want you to
I want to grow old and share our lives
I want to wake up with coffee on the porch and a cat in our respective laps
I want to tell you about my day in a more than a friend kind of way

I care about you
but more than you do about me
and I'm still learning to accept that
a slow realization with heartache that we will never be what I want

and it's a shock to my system to acknowledge the fact that someone has felt this way for me before
I could not reciprocate then
and you will not reciprocate now

and it seems silly to think about
7 years ago I fell in love and I haven't fallen out since

I'm fearful for the day I lose all sense of self
and it's not like my worth is equated in belongings
but I'm losing mine now and that's something to grieve
realistically
I know
they are still there
just tucked away for a later date
but for now I lose the enrichment in my enclosure
and can't help but feel a void opening in this cavity I call a chest

I think I've been too much again
too obtrusive in ways that I don't mean to be
I'm codependent and that's not healthy
but I felt that I could be with you and now I'm not so sure

but you said you needed space
and I understand needing to be alone
but I can't help this feeling that I've done something wrong to push you away

I'm a lot and I know that
it's hard to admit it to myself
you kept me steady and routine
I'm not quite sure how to deal without
right now of all times

I'm vexatious
and burdensome
difficult
and loud
annoying like a fly buzzing in your ear;
constant and disruptive

and I talk about myself way too much
and I share little things about my day
and I think they've added up to being too much

and others tell me I'm not
but it feels like they're just placating
because I'm never too much with them  and I know I am with you

this is why I don't let people in
because every time I do they eventually pull away
unable to keep up with everything I am
so I pull back instead
hesitant to jump in
the water is always a shock to my system
I started wading instead
but by the time I'm fully swimming
you've gotten out to tan

I know I am too much
colorful and loud
unapologetic until I am crying again alone
I care about you in a way I know you don't care the same

so instead I'll be quiet
accommodating and considerate
your own feelings placed above my own
I'll get out of the water
drops evaporating from my skin
until there is nothing left but air and a stranger
where there once was a friend

I'm guarded,
but these walls are glass:
thick like the acrylic in aquariums.
I can see through,
bang on the walls until my hands are red,
shout, but no sound ever leaves this fortress

instead I watch
as the people stare in at me;
hundreds of eyes watching me
causing my skin to crawl like insects are living beneath it

they precieve me but do not know me---
gawk and laugh and smudge the glass;
my vision to the outside becomes jaded--
blurry audience to my sideshow act---
there's something to be said about just exsisiting

I'm there with pretty patterns,
colors that scream dangerous to the natural world;
there is total lack of monochrome
bar the numerous stickers on my torso and limbs

and they stare at me appalled
while their children giggle and  point with wonder in their eyes
demanding to know what is that creature?
why it's so funny,
why it's so loud and bright and struggling to hide
when it's obviously something a wonder to be seen

they shush their children then--
saying don't look and not to point
while they raise their eyebrows in judgement and gossip to their friends later about what they saw that day
I have become a spectacle and in a way I did it to myself
trapped in the necessity of uniformity so long I started to ooze out of my clothes like sludge

it dripped into new shoes and formed someone new
I'm still learning to accept her vision in the glass when I look in the mirror
trying to find the awe of a child's eyes through the ones of an adult

As a child I was demure
obedient
restricted
uniformed schools and stuffy churches
expectations on how a person should be and act ingrained into my life from conception

I watched as others blossomed
allowed to grow in the faith and in their family
expectations a guide book they were more than eager to follow
I sat in the corner quiet and meager and scared of taking up too much space
there was a slot my peg was supposed to fit into
and maybe I did, but not in the way that it mattered

I saw the way my sisters fought with my mother
harsh words and violent tantrums
I felt the tension in the air and I never wanted to cause that

to this day I'd say I'm the same way
a peacekeeper and people pleaser
doing what I think I should do for others
as it changes how others see myself

I am kind
and I am gentle
and I am punctual
and I am tactful
but I am selfish
and I want
and I want
and I want

and there's a part of me that is scared to flourish
afraid that if I let myself be myself then I will hurt those around me I have spent so long trying to protect
I still try to fit into a mold that I have repeatedly cracked,
and when I look in the mirror I understand that everything I am built this figure

striking outfits and sharp bold black images marring my body
I am loud and unapologetic in the comfort of my own home
I am her when I am surrounded by my friends
but I know the truth and am skilled at wearing many faces
I still change the mask with every phone call to my mother
with every smile I flash at work
with every doctor's visit and strangers on the street

I'm still demure
and obedient
restricted and uniform
The image I'm projecting a direct reflection of my fears
I'm still the same child who was scared of rocking the boat
and I'm not quite sure how I feel about that

I'm trying to put these feelings into words but I don't know the vocabulary
I know I am uncomfortable
I feel reprimanded---
chagrined in a way that is thoughtful but wary of change

these steps seem simple to you
but I am trying and they're steeper than I'm used to
I'm scared that if I reach the top
then I will fall back to the bottom even harder than before

and the climb becomes more difficult each time
and the summit is never as beautiful as I was told
so I sit at the bottom of the stairwell and watch as others around me sprint up the steps
They're waiting for me again dancing at the top to a rhythm I've never heard and will forever struggle to learn

Healing takes time

it's a change I knew was coming
a slow reality setting in that want and desire are overthrown by happenstance
I'm facing a loss and for that I grieve
there was denial on my lips for the longest time
months of agonizing over weather or not it was all in my head even with the physical evidence in my hands
anger in the unfairness of it all, my youth clinging to thinning strands I once struggled to control
I tried to bargain with myself--a last ditch effort of treatments that promised a solution until reality shook me by the shoulders once again
at least I have this
I tell myself
but I know what's coming next, and I fear for that moment when depression rears it's head at me again,
grabbing me by the throat and forcing me to face myself in the mirror until I do not recognize the face looking back
there will be  acceptance one day
I will be comfortable again in my own skin
but for now I grieve a loss that is no body else's but my own

there will be no grave to visit