To my shadow,

You've suspected it, but I don't think you've admitted it to yourself. And neither have I. I'm fed up. Fed up with the things you do and with the lack of things you do. Fed up with the taxed way you go about your day. I love you, I care about you, I need you. But mostly I really am just sick of it all. I'm sick of me too. And the worst part is, I don't know if I'm so on edge because of you or me. Can you ever tell? But I am on edge. I'm over the edge, sometimes. I've even on occasion let my mind wander to some horrible place where I wish you would fuck it up. That you would make some unforgivable mistake- kiss her, kiss him. Just so I could have someone to blame. So a decision could be made for me. Am I really so ambivalent? Is there any human sentiment more terrible?

You are my first real love, all I've ever wanted, you are beautiful and perfect and I used to see that everyday. The thought of you, my sanctuary. Now, you wear me out. I just want it to be like it used to- I need to be in love with something again. Can it be you? Gray is an exhausting color.

Anonymous