disappointed and embarrassed,
my heart is heavy.

you make me sad...
not because of who you are,
but because of who i imagined you to be.

Cheeks flush,
red lips purse.
Eyebrows, thick and singular,
draw upwards in shock,
scandalized by my very existence.

Born in love,
and yet out
of all else.

At last,
Abashed at the rash decisions of my heart,

The crash amassed the crass dealings of my past,
Fast,
The class to mask the blast,

Hide.

~Robert van Lingen

A thousand strangers go before me
Their bad jokes and worse haircuts linger
In my online shadow, that twenty-first century history
That is etched for every one of us.

The species has always been able to forget
It is what keeps us alive, and subsequently kills us
So why is it we can forget the past's atrocitites
But not my Year 9 obsession with Japanese cartography?

His name is a compulsion
It's his name that comes to the tongue first
Was it love?
I used to think so but probably not
Love isn't suppose to crumble so suddenly
I am embarrassed by it now
I wish I had kept quiet
Let myself go up in flames and down in ashes
Because now the humiliation is too much to bare
Why do I only love him when I am sad
Why does my depression cause me to gravitate to him with such need for comfort
I don't love him
I love the distraction that comes with him
I never loved him
I loved the idea of him

I was told there's a difference
between embarrassment and shame,
and that if embarrassment let exist
without treatment, without care;
it soon swells into a pestering hornet's nest.
humming violently in the back of your head.
It feeds off of instinctual fear
and it sets your skin aflame.

I feel as if I'm being melted alive
and there's no way out.
I can't even find the escape route
to take a moment and see outside of this issue.
The fear of rejection overloads my system
and all at once, memories of childhood rejection
flood like a tidal wave,
wracking my core.

I'll play it off as a joke,
I'll get the option back, maybe,
But I fear everyone will look at me differently.
It's true that when I'm pushing 30,
I won't cast a second glance back at this very moment.
But everyone tells me to focus on there "here-and-now",
and I have no choice but to wallow in the existential dread
and overwhelming fear
of everyone being mad at me, being disgusted by me.
I want out.

Quiet now, settle down
there is a test to take
I look around with a frown
from a tummy ache

I know I need to use the loo
so I politely raise my hand
I wonder if she'll construe
my need without command

Look up she does, but ignores
my look of desperation
Returning to her desk drawers
adding to my frustration

I stretch my arm as high as I can
and begin to wave and bounce
She lifts her head, another scan
and cares not one ounce

***** this I think, I need to go
and that's just what I'll do
As I stand my bowels say WHOA!
and let loose right on cue

Leave I did, straight out the door
for now I must get clean
To the office I implored
to call mom for my hygiene

She arrived, straight away
with questions myriad
Once in the car she did survey
"You started your period!"

I hung my head, face all red
embarrassed through and through
I had to let her know instead
I shat my pantaloons

I planned all night that when I saw you we would finally converse and that I would finally get to know you better.
Between all of the passing glances.
And not being able to catch up to you sooner.
Tomorrow would be the day I catch you when you're not busy and fill you in on what's been on my mind.
But of all the craziest things.
I forgot the words mid sentence.
My lips moved but nothing came out.
You stood in anticipation.
I stood anxiously waiting for some type of sound.
Constantly playing this moment in my head before actually getting to this moment.
I stammered over every word.
Stuttering over the simplest of words.
I barely managed to get my name out.
I held my hands out and paused.
Inviting my lips to let at least one word out so this situation wouldn't be completely awkward.
I continued to stand feeling beads of sweat begin to form against my forehead.
In a climate controlled room I felt like I stepped inside of my own personal hell.
The simplest of words were the devil.
At that moment embarrassment became my biggest sin.
I don't know if it was bitter sarcasm.
Or a good sense of humor.
But I did finally feel a bit of relief when you told me that you didn't speak good english either

you know that feeling that you get often but not often. you feel parts of it constantly but only sometimes do you get the whole effect. that feeling that starts in your stomach- feels similar to a punch. it takes the breath out of you for what seems like an eternity of time, and before you can remember to breathe again, you become focused on this punch. it's expanding now. up your esophagus and all the way down to your abdomen. you can almost picture it as a big deep thick dark fog just spreading throughout your body. you fall to the ground gasping for air while blinded by all of the warm salty tears that snuck up on the back of your eyeballs ever so subtlety
it's the worst feeling i've ever felt.
its embarrassment.

Flower petals and confetti litter the ground.
Balloons held up by your friends.
Curious passersby gathering around.
You,being pushed towards the center of attention.
You, alone, in the middle of it all.
His friends wearing letters on their shirts,
Shuffling to spell out-

“will you marry me?”
It flashes on the jumbotron
In lieu of the kiss cam.
Fans hooting everywhere
“Say yes! Say yes!”, they scream
As he kneels on that popcorn and soda littered floor
And repeats-

“will you marry me?”
He says as his now sister-in-law gives you her bouquet.
His and everyone else’s eyes are on you.
Even though it’s his brother’s wedding’s reception,
he still managed to capture all the attention
Towards the two of you.

His eyes are brimming with tears
and glistening like the ring he’s holding.
He loves you. So much.
You love him,too. You know you do.
But how do you say I love you and no at the same time.
“I love you but, no.”
That doesn’t seem right.
So you stay on the middle ground and say
“I’ll have to think about it.”

The hooting turns to whispers
The tears on your boyfriend’s eyes come falling down
as he tucks the ring back in his pockets.
Your feet cemented to the ground
As people look at you as if you’re the strangest thing
to have ever existed.
And you may as well be.
No one says no to proposals.
It’s considered rude to reject such a thoughtful gesture.
But to whom is it being thoughtful of
Because it sure as hell isn’t of you
Since you’re the one who’s being viewed as a villain
But you have to remember that you’re not.

You are not a villain for saying no.
You are not the bad guy for not being ready.
Your decision is valid
And if he leaves you
Or makes a villain out of you
for being honest,
Then you were right to reject that ring.