My Valentine

Only in fantasies do I get to love. My dreams come to fruition, a truth that evades me. Beneath each truth is a lie I live to tell myself. A perpetuation that is a mix of faith and hope, different only in the sense that one is knowingly blind, the other, unwillfully so.

Being hugged by the very fantasy I reached for only gives the lie more credence. It would never be realized. The faith and hope disintegrate and now, guarded, uncomfortable, and a shell of who I could be, the reach for release is clear.

Become the nightmare and absolve reality.

Why are they still there? Holding onto the pieces of what could be, do they believe the lie too? How deep entrenched is this madness? Holding you one more time, promises I could only whisper and never commit to.

The tragedy sewn, a rift between you and I, us and it, and everything else. I kept telling myself that ying pairs with yang, but I could not find the balance necessary.

An oceanic feeling had washed over me as day turned to night, as the onion unraveled, as a piece of myself lay bare and vulnerable. Behind the dark shallows, below the moon, and right above the sand, a share of the flesh keeps me bound.

I was shown the strength that I lacked, nurtured the weaknesses that were shown. Zoom out and any would have looked down like a cherub with two wings, an arrow in the shape of a heart. How that had missed me before, I would never know. It was the moment the tension was released I will never forget.

Tightly packed and ready to burst, a knife to the top of a can of blood only poured slowly. Dark liquid oozing out, sliding along, dripping into each other’s palms. As we sipped from it, we realized something.

How fragile we are. Scared of being alone and together. Wanted to be heard, or explained, or shown off.

It hurt when the river would overflow and burst from the bank. The true fear, however, was if it would dry up. Barren, unsalvageable, easily crossed.

I found what was real. I realized what had happened.

Lies are nothing but truths without belief. When I was sang to, I listened, even though my ears were halfway open. Even as my heart skipped and brain went blank. My skin crawled and roiled until finally, I listened to my gut.

But as I closed my eyes, I wondered…

Would they still be there when I open them up?