from afar it seems beautiful, precious even. things taking shape,
rearranging, molding into something new. on the inside,
when it's me, or him, or both of us, it's like destruction.
destruction of the beauty and affection.
seeing, but from a distance. reaching, unable to grasp.
we are two people. two living, breathing human beings
walking the same ground as everyone else, and we're changing.
i've admitted, but not accepted, this fact. for the better seems
out of question. we're distant, unaware, and i can feel it hurt deep within me.
i can feel it hurt when i look in his eyes as he quickly looks away,
and again when i see him hesitant, but not quite worried.
terrified- i'm terrified of what's to come next,
which part of my heart will shatter as soon as i realize
this isn't something we can save.
everything is blurred, unrecognizable and my head starts to spin.
friends are changing, thoughts are changing, family is changing,
the world is changing. out of everything becoming new again,
he was the one exception, the one thing that stayed the same,
kept me sane, kept me grounded.
with all of this, it seems there are two possible solutions,
both in which are equally impossible and unreachable:
pause everything, rewind, fast forward, whatever it takes to wipe the slate clean,
to become clear again,
or
hold him firmly, hands on his shoulders, give him a good shake,
maybe knock this urge to reconstruct out of his veins and
onto the floor where i could stomp it, kill it, make it gone for good.
none of which will happen. i will continue to live in question,
watching my back, and at every turn i'll brace for impact.
change. hardly beautiful when everything in clear view is distorted.