Bent Words

Bent Words

August 01, 2007

Perhaps it was all due the fact that I didn’t reply sooner. I didn’t quite catch you in your short-lived but affected longing. And so the moment passed, without ceremony, without meaning and without satisfaction. I didn’t make it in time, replying with enough abounding passion, and thus you moved on – tucking the shame of your desires, your unexplained spontaneity, deep into your pockets. Hide it from the world; your ardor, your sadness, your desperate need to be loved, your hunger for compassion, lest ‘they’ mock you for your feelings.

By the time I did reply, your mood had shifted. Your anger, your complacency, your silence much clearer and better focused. At that point, I was not needed. I had not risen to your expectations nor had I dropped all other activities in order to quench your indeterminable impulsiveness. I could not be there in the exacting moments of your desire and thus I had failed. Rather than wait, rather than acknowledge the prior obligations I could not set aside, you gave up. And the only reason you became so angry was because you allowed yourself that small speck of hope for me – you put all your strength, almost unwillingly, into one fleeting desire.

In this way you will always be disappointed. Your lacking patience denies you the right to bliss, to a cure, to the things in life that must be painfully waited for.

Oh how I adored your testaments of unmoving fervor. Your promise to never quit that which had grown so important to you. And now, what does it mean? When you have, when you all have, walked away so easily as soon as the lights didn’t shine at the proper consistency with your march. You fear the fall before you have even taken the leap – for it is easy to allow yourself the opportunity to be adored but it is much more difficult to remain strapped to the horse when it bucks and bellows under your weight. And that is the leap – one of faith, patience and forgiveness which you won’t make time for. You think you are strong because you can stand up and leave it all behind, because you can forget and raise your head up high, because you can pretend that it must not matter if you don’t understand it.

That’s just cowardice. An unfulfilled promise, a weakness that shall follow you and cause more ruination than foundation. When not all the bells toll for you at exactly the appointed time, you stomp off like a child denied another hour before bed. How much you lose for lack of flexibility. And it just breaks my heart to have to witness it.

Especially since you believe that *I* am the cause of it.

Written at 9:33 a.m.