Hedda Gabler

When I miss you all wrong, my head twirls. I'm dumbfounded, completely erratic, rash.

You are a rash and everywhere I turn it seems to me that I'm about to crash.

Crash into me? Yes, it keeps popping up, but are we really aware of such a collision.

I'm never sure. Can't even grab myself or him in the tangles of my own imagination and delusion.

Yes, we are all so fond of our small hopes and dreams that we decide to pick them all to small pieces and try then reassemble them over and over again, until there's only fiction left. And then the recognition that, in fact, it's the fractions of truth that should not be lost. That, if you decide not to lose your mind. My highs and lows are dancing, they twist and turn and leave me no air to breathe. Questions that don't have answers and all there is left are the exclamation marks, which are pointless and overwhelming.

I can't find my peace. I can't find any peace.

Remember the dreams I had? You were never there before, because reality seemed to be a better place for every inch of you. But reality can't contain anyone, not even you. But to trap you in my dreams, it seems cruel. No, I don't feel sorry for you, and yes, I'm selfish, just like you. So yes, I want to trap you, but not to harm myself with you, you've done that enough, and I have to learn. I need to.

Do you dream? You don't allow yourself to remember, because then you would actually have to care and that is exactly what you wish to push away. Does it work? On the surface.

You still come back, I pull you, and there's resistance, that eventually turns out to be weak and futile.

I know where I wished our train would take us. But it left. We stepped off so many times, we could never catch it again. So it must be wandering somewhere, nothing is sure. Only one thing, the thing I'm terrified to admit. We don't care, but we never tried together. So we were never together.

What confounds me is, how I couldn't let go. Why there were always ways to drop back, fall into the same pattern which never fails to surprise me.

You always played it cool, which drove me mad with anger, anguish, you name it, you controlled it.

To erase you.

Expiration dates.

I hope you are worth the trouble.