Thursday, December 23, 2010

Catharsis Part-VIII: From Across

I wish I could confess I was jealous. And tell you I am not in control of my sensibilities to be able to talk to you. As much as I wouldn't want to hurt you, I would not want to make a fool out of me. Is it wrong of me to be scared... the stupid fear, the irrational thought that you will not care, that you will forget... That I am dispensable. 

I don't care that I am being foolish but my pride is all that is mine. So, I will not let you just leave me staring after you in the middle of the dusty, empty road, I will not let you walk away feeling sorry for me. I'll never let you know that I care that you stay and would hurt when you don't. So I will let you walk away and stare the other way as if I don't know you are here. And that way you won't see my tears.

But when does this end I don't know... What if you never intend to go away... I don't care, I am not brave enough to open up to you and us, I can't make myself vulnerable, I can't bare my heart.... All I keep thinking is "no one's gonna' think of you but you", and never let her know she can hurt you, that you feel alone without, that you are scared to be seen through and discarded without a thought... I protect nothing but my heart... telling it lies, telling it, if it happens, it never mattered... only my heart's smarter...

For the hurt that I wait for, what I think is inevitable... I can't walk up to you today and say, I have been jealous, and a possessive freak, I have been a fool but you are all that ever mattered, and that's all that matters.

But the pride interferes, the fear says no one can love you, so it says, I don't need your love. Or you.

My pride like the little lost child, lies.


  1. Dont know but something deep inside my head made me nod in agreement

    And always been a fan of your writing style!!!

  2. Nicely written. In some way, I can relate to it so much! Good work:)

  3. Loved it dear.



"How little a thing can make us happy when we feel that we have earned it" - Mark Twain