Its always a power move. never honest. always unsaid actions. and id never want to shed light on these invisible issues. Id be laughed at and called a fool. but they exist. to you and me. and at any time you or i are vulnerable to admitting the feelings and the truth. sometimes its more innocent than others. other times its a direct act of fear, or power, or for the fuck of it. the opposite of love is indifference. not hate, or spite, or anything that is powerful enough to make you act. dont feel. thats what i do. i push it down. and it no longer becomes a catalyst in my judgment.
they either extinguish or they smolder as more kindling is added. if you aren’t careful it could erupt into a blaze, burning you from the side out. or it could stay a dormant coal your whole life. and you would remain cold. instead of gently rekindling the lovely warmth once shared or exploring new fires altogether.
but they exist. these invisible feelings. the looks. the heartbeats. the elusive behavior. you cant lie. or forget the piercing glances that etch phrases of love onto the back of my eyes. you cant call that vibe something its not. some people are so use to being dishonest with themselves they don’t know how to be honest with people. they skew their own reality. if happiness and contentment, however brief, was just an arms length away, would they grab? i wonder. i wonder if they’d tell themselves it wasn’t real. asininity. this is what a masochist endures. these brutal games of delayed gratification.
but there is hope. and the feelings were real.
i have a tendency to shy away from confrontation or downplay the actual feelings i have toward a situation. i think i fall victim to fear of my ability to recognize and address the reality of circumstances.
William Dare 