Bulletproof vests are ineffective and useless the moment you take them off. Regardless of how long someone decides to wear one, that same person is instantly liable to any harm that comes their way once it’s off. The question I ask then, why would anyone proceed to remove one; making one susceptible to pain? It seems quite dense for one to do such a thing especially in the war zone we’re in now. We’re at an age where guys are immature enough to not just walk away, but sprint, in the opposite direction when they see a potential relationship approaching. Guys are built to use their Shakespeare monologue to sweep you off your feet and onto your back only to not wake you nor leave a note as they tiptoe out of your apartment in the morning. This is figuratively speaking, of course, but the intention remains the same: hit it then quit it – in simpler terms. In retrospect, I imagine this is a similar motto I had become accustomed to as it was the most cautious, although ludicrous, course of action. This poor selection when it came to my love life lead to even harsher consequences but you came along which gave me hope that you would save the day. That you would bring out the best in me.
I had come from a destructive battlefield where I learned that relationships take more than a kiss or phone call goodnight. The truth of that two and a half year war still haunts me in my dreams and was what disabled me from reinstating myself in the army. With each news flash on CNN, I was forced to recollect the days that went unsuccessful as I left wounded. Although that was ancient history, I lacked the courage to strap on my gear and each day came and went as a failure. Then came a new prospect: one that seemed safe and honorable; I had trusted I would not end up in the same bad shape as I did the last time. Come December, I had my faith in check and perceived myself a stronger individual than I was 6 months ago which is why I found myself back on my feet, like T.I – ready for whatever. With the tough interior I was positive I had built, I went on to remove my bulletproof vest, as it was beginning to smother me. It was about time the defense shield was removed; you assured me that protection was what you would provide me with. But as it grew to become serious, I caught myself wrapped in a web of “what ifs” as I did in the past. The notion of you leaving me to deal with this combat alone worried me. I became timid and nervous with each mishap thinking that you would desert me, just as the other did. I became restless, arguing until both of us had tears streaming down our faces as I struggled to find ways that would force you to leave. Now for the question that has been left unanswered as I’m sure it’s left you puzzled, “Why?”
Because. Because I was certain that the quicker it ended, the less it would hurt. We traded places, I wound up being the individual that had the cynical theory that ‘everyone leaves’. How tactless for me to think that I would not be left injured if I made it so that you haaaaad to leave as I left you with no other choice? It should have been inevitable, especially when I was already in so deep…
“I'm going to stick it out until you leave, cause I never want to”
But where are you now? Did I lose you amongst every cannon I set off? Was it because I had refused to put the silencer on my revolver? Was it because I simply could not put my gun down? I couldn’t stop fighting, talk about going out with guns blazing. Sometimes, you’re worth fighting for but the distance you’ve grown away from me makes it complicated for my flight back – to safety, immunity and sanity - to be delayed any further. As I feed your ego, I realize that there is nothing in it for me at this airport: nothing to sustain me. The bleeding won’t stop and my own ego is being malnourished as I sit here drowning myself in I miss yous....
[ I just wanted you to want me back. ]
Story of my life.
Yeah, yeah: “Life’s Hard.”
xoxOMG
- SB, my life in an abbrev.
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