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And my imagination sees you crying, curled in a ball…so weak. I want to go to you. I want to tell you that you’re pathetic. I want to look you in the eyes and tell you to stop crying before I give you something to cry about. Just turn the crying off! The grief must be held in at all times. I don’t want to hear it. I won’t listen to you anymore!
Because I understand. Because I’ve felt what you are feeling. Because I don’t ever want you to feel that way again—your diseased emotions.
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You see me crying, curled up in a ball on the floor. I want you to come to me. I want you to tell me I’m pathetic. I want you to look me in the eyes and lie to me. Tell me you don’t wish I was never born. Don’t lie. Admit it. You wish you could unmake me. Because if I don’t hear that, I won’t listen to you anymore. Because I understand. Because I know what you are feeling. Because I’ve always wanted to not exist, to vanish.
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I saw her crying, curled in a ball on the floor. I wanted to go to her. I wanted to tell her it will get better. I wanted to look her in the eyes and tell her to act happy. Just feel the sadness, and act happy. Add it to the grief you have held in so long. I will teach you. I will teach you for as long as it takes. Because I understand. Because I’ve felt what you are feeling. Because he did it to me, too.
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I see her crying, curled in a ball. I know she wants me to go to her. She wants me to tell her I love her. She wants me to look her in the eyes and tell her to stop crying before I give you something to cry about. Just turn the crying off! The grief must be held in at all times. I don’t want to hear it. I won’t listen to you anymore!
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Because I understand. Because I’ve felt what you are feeling. Because I don’t ever want you to feel that way again—your diseased emotions.
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