Let's toast Love... with a glass of pesticide
Why am I nervous? Why am I at a loss for words when I see your face?
I want to talk to you and I have so many things I can say, but when the time comes suddenly I have nothing of consequence.
I am not trying to avoid you or not talk to you, but every time I try to talk all thoughts disappear. Even the most basic like hello, how are you? Because I know the answer is going to be ok or fine or alright, and I want to know more about you than that. What I really want to ask is who are you? And what’s on your mind? And what do you think of me? I want to hear you laugh.
It wasn’t always this way, and I am not sure what has changed to make it this way.
I’m not even sure that I like you, or that I know you well enough to like you.
And as for you, well I don’t really know what’s going through your mind.
I need to call you and I look for an excuse to dial the number, then I hang up and wish that I could just write you a letter or send you an email; I'm not good about this on the spot stuff. It’s nice to have time to think things over and respond. What if I get the answering machine, worse yet what if you answer, it seems so silly to call you for something that all of a sudden seems so meaningless. And after I ask you and you answer my question, I want to stay on the line, but I don’t know what to say. Last time I came to visit and all I could manage was “this is good Mr. Pibb”—how dumb is that!
And although I can’t seem to talk to you these days, I miss you when you aren’t around, or when I’m not around as the case may be and I don’t get to see you. But what’s the point in seeing you if I can’t even talk to you.
Maybe we should do something, then I would have something to talk about, I’d love to go for a long walk in the woods, I know a great spot, or a drive maybe the Blue Ridge parkway is great this time of year. Would it be weird for two friends to do something together? I think I would be able to talk if we could do something to distract my self. Or maybe I could let you borrow some music and we could talk to each other in song lyrics, but I don’t even know if you have time for any of this, and I know you wont have much time pretty soon. I’ll have weekends off soon; I’d love to spend some of them getting to know you. Do you like to go fishing, do you know of any good spots. I don’t think I have to talk, silence is fine with me. Except when I am calling to talk, and have nothing to say.
I just wish I could swallow some pesticide and kill these butterflies; I was doing amazing before they came. I don’t want to feel these things I just want to be able to talk to you in a normal way, I’m really not avoiding you, but yet I am. I know people will talk and I’m not ready for that, I don’t need any more ideas in my head; I have enough of my own. We aren’t there yet, and we may never be, but in the mean time id like to see you. And if I find out that you have the butterflies too we can both toast a glass of pesticide and move on with our lives.
I want to talk to you and I have so many things I can say, but when the time comes suddenly I have nothing of consequence.
I am not trying to avoid you or not talk to you, but every time I try to talk all thoughts disappear. Even the most basic like hello, how are you? Because I know the answer is going to be ok or fine or alright, and I want to know more about you than that. What I really want to ask is who are you? And what’s on your mind? And what do you think of me? I want to hear you laugh.
It wasn’t always this way, and I am not sure what has changed to make it this way.
I’m not even sure that I like you, or that I know you well enough to like you.
And as for you, well I don’t really know what’s going through your mind.
I need to call you and I look for an excuse to dial the number, then I hang up and wish that I could just write you a letter or send you an email; I'm not good about this on the spot stuff. It’s nice to have time to think things over and respond. What if I get the answering machine, worse yet what if you answer, it seems so silly to call you for something that all of a sudden seems so meaningless. And after I ask you and you answer my question, I want to stay on the line, but I don’t know what to say. Last time I came to visit and all I could manage was “this is good Mr. Pibb”—how dumb is that!
And although I can’t seem to talk to you these days, I miss you when you aren’t around, or when I’m not around as the case may be and I don’t get to see you. But what’s the point in seeing you if I can’t even talk to you.
Maybe we should do something, then I would have something to talk about, I’d love to go for a long walk in the woods, I know a great spot, or a drive maybe the Blue Ridge parkway is great this time of year. Would it be weird for two friends to do something together? I think I would be able to talk if we could do something to distract my self. Or maybe I could let you borrow some music and we could talk to each other in song lyrics, but I don’t even know if you have time for any of this, and I know you wont have much time pretty soon. I’ll have weekends off soon; I’d love to spend some of them getting to know you. Do you like to go fishing, do you know of any good spots. I don’t think I have to talk, silence is fine with me. Except when I am calling to talk, and have nothing to say.
I just wish I could swallow some pesticide and kill these butterflies; I was doing amazing before they came. I don’t want to feel these things I just want to be able to talk to you in a normal way, I’m really not avoiding you, but yet I am. I know people will talk and I’m not ready for that, I don’t need any more ideas in my head; I have enough of my own. We aren’t there yet, and we may never be, but in the mean time id like to see you. And if I find out that you have the butterflies too we can both toast a glass of pesticide and move on with our lives.
posted by becka at 4:25 PM
1 Comments:
Poignant, creepy, and altogether too true.
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