It’s weird how I can sense your presence, but you won’t reach out to me if I call. I guess right now I can compare you to God, but I’ve seen your presence. You are indeed real, just hiding from me. You can’t trust me so you feel it’s best to be away, I get that. What I don’t get is this double standard that you are holding me up to. I made the same mistake as you, but I’m worst for doing so some how. Is it because of the number of members you believe I had on my team? Or just the thought that I didn’t truly belong to just you that’s causing you to shun me? What’s makes my sins worst than yours?
I’m talking to dead air. Not really because you are watching, listening and debating why you still visit time to time to witness. Is it fun watching my sadness? Watching me try to balance it all and keep going?
I’ll let you in on a secret. Although this glass castle is lovely, it’s also my prison. I’m trapped here. A slave to these ideals and responsibilities of those around me in my so called life. I must be a certain way, think a certain way, move a certain way. Never can I take a step out of place. Their happiness matters more. I am just their doll to play with.
Remember back when we talked about escaping together? Getting away from our own troubled worlds and facing the outside one together? Forever and always no matter what happened. It was going to be you and me. You say I fucked that up now, but that dream was long destroyed. I’ve held onto it as much as I could…but there’s neither here or there.
I remember calling her and telling her I don’t even think I can have a say in my own life anymore… “I can’t die because you won’t forgive me for it. If I die, he’ll lose hope. He wants me to fix him, but I’m too broken to pick up his pieces.” If I live, I feel tortured to keep going when I’m not sure how to do that. Finding her was one thing, but you know me and my thoughts on therapy.
“They never get me…they only say what they need to in order to get a check from you.”
But I try because I need to cut these strings. These barriers that seem to sway my life in a certain way. I need to feel free again. I’ve accepted my sins, but I can’t let them devour me any longer. Yes, I fucked up, but I must learn to forgive myself if I am ever to obtain freedom.
You’re listening…which is good enough sometimes. I’m not doing well, but I want to be ok. It’s hard, but I’m trying to make due. I’ve asked myself do I want you to forgive me and deep down, I do. What I want more is for you to acknowledge that neither of us is better when we’ve committed the same crime. If you never see it that way, then so be it.
I’m still healing. Allowing new people into my life to try to build a new one. One more stable and solid. It’s a two way glass and although I can’t see you, I know you’re there. Observe closely. If you blink, you’ll miss something important.