Sweet Disposition.

Past mistakes lead up to great regrets. Repressed words labelled fancy and unwillingness to see the light. Selfishness and greed. Both sides cage an animal long suppressed. One of peace, the other of patience. You’d not listen. You chose to be with him. You tell me it’s all my fault that I chose to suffer. It’s my fault to tell you to let go. That now, this is your time. Your happiness and there is no need to amend for my past mistakes. You see me as a monster. Nothing more than a hungry monster out for virgin blood. My pain is my own fault and your undoing is mine as well.

Innocence lost, you forgot what kindness is. You think everything has ulterior motives. That I want you for my own. And of course I do. I do want you for my own. My own selfish reasons to make you happier. But you don’t want that and you find whatever I say to be pointless lies, shadows that don’t exist. You say you want to keep us in your life but you also feel betrayed by our truth. By the fact that we just can’t be happy. You think it’s now you against the world because you cannot accept the fact that what you’ve done is out of haste, out of escape and solace. But it’s fine if you don’t come back. You tore a part of me no one can ever replace. No matter how much company, how much tears shed.

Meanwhile in all this pain, I see her. The mirage in the distance. The oasis in the desert that I can never reach. The words you say add heat to the scorching sun cast on the grainy surface of the sands. I keep reaching out to her. The savior unbeknownst. But she disappears. Now and then she tells me that she is real, but she is just not. She is my sweet disposition, along with you. Two important parts of my life that I cannot have but cannot let go. 

Her words tell me that the guilt that I feel is for naught, that I can keep going on no matter the pain. She shields me from the arrows of hurt that you command fire at. She tells me that the walls that you built around everyone else in your new found happiness is not worth a notice. Not worth its’ awe and presence because everything is alright. She sustains me, my personal brand of drugs that I cannot have enough of.

You can be gone, but if she isn’t there, how I wish you could see the light and start from zero. No one is listening anymore. I feel alone. 

The vox populi tell me to just abandon all hope, but it is not that easy. They don’t know what I had for you, and you don’t know that too because you say you sacrifice everything for me. And no more. You want your happiness and you’d never come back but it’s fine. She is there, if she is, when she is and I hope to god she is. Soothe me, bathe the sinner in holy water, wash away his transgressions. I beg of you, my fleeting sweet disposition.