Cyclic

Despite our brief history of ups and downs, trials and tribulations, we continue to come back to one another. We were both betrayed by someone close, we have both dealt with loss, subjugated to death, resigned to a life of solitude and distrust. We have so much in common it is truly frightening. Yes, we continue to come back to one another and we always manage to pull away, a perpetual sad song which harkens me to a night long ago listening to black waves crash on a desolate beach.

I have now met your mother and your father and your brother and your sisters. I am the only man you have ever brought around your son… and you are the only woman who has been around mine. One dreamy surreal night we professed our love for one another. We confessed we have always wanted to be with one another, even when we were both trapped in our doomed relationships, we would find ourselves thinking about the other and what they were doing at that moment. There was always that glimmer of hope. There was always that fleeting fantasy we would both obsessively toy with in our heads over and over like an unsolvable rubik’s cube while we went about our daily lives – the elusive “what if?”

And now we are both free. Yet there is hesitation. We are free to let go and lose ourselves in one another and escape this horrible fucking place and we cannot, we are frozen with fear, emasculated by mistrust. We have both erected walls. Impenetrable barriers. Yet little do we know these barriers could crumble away like a heap of dry leaves would we allow them to.

We are unable to just. Let. Go.

And here I am, a bottle of whiskey in hand, dousing these flames and dumbing this pain. And you have told me you drink alone as well after you put your little one to bed.

We want each other so badly we can both taste it in our mouths like rotten pennies. We have both imagined the possibilities. We are each other’s saviors. We are each other’s Messiahs. And perhaps… just maybe… we are each other’s soul mates.

But we will never know will we?

So I pull another drink from this bottle and listen to the ringing nothingness I have chosen to shroud myself in.