Warning Messages

Shortly after the Memorial Day incident, she and I had a rather heated e-mail exchange. We both get so passionate about things that we don't necessarily say things we regret, but perhaps the way we say them is more hurtful, confusing or misinterpreted by the other. In the end, she suggested a break. It was the closest thing I think she could do to walking away from me while still leaving the door of possibility open that we might work something out. To deal with the pain of this suggestion, the few friends I had confided in started calling us "Ross & Rachel." But I was still pissed. It was almost as if she was shocked by the words I had said. How could she not see this coming? How could she be surprised that I was still in love with her? How could she not wait for me? But I guess that's my fault because I walked away from her before. But why did she stop believing? How could she ever get over it when I don't think I ever will? I can't do anything to right what I did before and correct how she may have felt about me over the last ten years. That feeling of powerlessness leaves me in a constant state of frustration, and sometimes it comes out in the cruel words I say to her. It took a good friend to kick me in the head and make me realize that despite what seemed like rejection she still wants me in her life and she's done things for me and made me feel things no one else has or ever will. And so this poem.


WARNING MESSAGES

I never want to be left alone with my thoughts.
That’s when I get myself into trouble.
I need an anchor to keep me from sinking.
I was so happy.
Or I was content in these calm waters.
Now you’ve made me consider that my life is incomplete,
that I may never really find happiness among the raging rapids.
I’m forced to wade through pleasant moments to avoid the undertow
with effortless emptiness in between the timid tides.

You make this old world new.
I rediscover it, things, me for the first time.
You’re still the best thing to ever wash into my life.
Now you’ve done it to me twice on two different shores.
Don’t regret what you’ve done.
You’ve given me renewed life.
There’s nothing to forget
and this time I’ll remember every single little thing.
The challenge is me.
I don’t feed off the twisted destruction left by a hurricane.
I feed off your radiant brilliance that never leaves.
Even when it’s shining in another direction
as I walk out the door for what I’ll never know is the last time.

I’ve taken the emptiness and made it numbing nothingness.
I’m verging on the unstable.
I’ve built up my expectations
only to destroy what I’ve created with artificial terror.
I’m waiting for a decaf refill and I’m still shaking
like a bowl full of jelly.
The uneasiness used to make me comfortable.
Now I find it baiting.
And I’m still ready to face it.
I’ve grown into this impatient bull waiting to strike.
I refuse to let my anger show but I know it’s obvious.
The threat of losing you shames me.
I flip and you flop, I’m topsy and you’re turvy.
I can’t breathe directly.
My energy is exhausted trying to turn back the rotation of the earth
to where we last left and hold us there in that one dangerous moment.

I shift into reverse for some perspective.
I’m waiting here for what’s right, not righting what’s already here.
I’ll be here until the hurting stops
or until somebody stops me hurting.