The Pros and Cons of Breathing

I wish there was a way to say it all at once.
There are so many different things going on at once.
I can't handle it. I can't take it.

He tells me that he loves me when he's drunk. He kisses my cheek with his vodka-soaked lips and apologizes for everything that had ever happened. But he is drunk. He is always drunk. I get drunken love letters, drunken phone calls, drunken voice messages calling out in desperation. They make me sick, they make me so sick. Seeing him, smelling him, hearing him makes me think about the past. I am disgusted with the past. I am disgusted with my own stupidity. Love, love, what is love? How could I have said love? Leave me alone. Get out of my head.

Today I held someone's hand. I held his hand for a whole five minutes and then I let go. He didn't take my hand again. I almost kissed him, but I wanted him to kiss me. He didn't. He's just a kid. He's a shy little kid, but he's fond of me and I'm fond of him. It'll never go anywhere, but I want to have fun. I want to feel what I felt when he held my hand for a whole five minutes. Kiss me on Valentine's Day. Kiss me any day. I want to pretend like it's my first. I want my hands to shake again.

I stole my little brother's extra tooth brush. Even the softest things hitting the back of your throat will scar you mentally, emotionally, and physically. I want to run it off, dance it off, starve it off, but I am weak. I get rid of it.

There is more. There is more.

I want to fall in love with someone who understands all of my metaphors.
I don't want to be a person. I want to be an essay.
I want my words to flow smoothly and catch eyes suddenly.
I want someone to understand this. Understand it, please.
Fall in love with words, fall in love with me.
Not just words, but the way they pull at your heart, mind, and soul.
I want to challenge and be challenged, to strengthen and be strengthened, to love and be loved.

I want someone to rip out my heart and hold it. Rip it out and steady this crazy beating. I can't dance to this beat. I can't fall in love at this volume. Can you comprehend? Can you comprehend? Can you learn to calculate my values and numbers and complicated feelings? Be real and be fake. Take me some place that doesn't exist. Life is so stagnant, it's stagnant and rotting. I am an old stream, and I'm stuck. Fresh water becomes saturated with amoeba and other protists.

Get me out, get me moving at a good pace. You'll never win if you start off too slowly or too quickly. It's all about consistency, you see.

Do you feel me?