Sometimes I tell myself I’m crazy; and perhaps I am. Perhaps everything is all in my head. Nothing is real anymore, no, it never was. Just made- up feelings in a made-up world to press the feeling of happiness into my gossamer heart.
Perhaps the craziness comes from my relentless hold. I believe that, too, sometimes. I am unhealthy to myself, my hands are getting tired of holding, and I see it with my eyes as the rope grows thinner and weaker but in hopes that something, anything, will come back, my fingers grip a little harder until they are blue and unfeeling, and I see this only helps my struggle.
Would I rather be crazy than upset? Would I rather watch the memories flood from my brain, the words said and the promises unkept leaving my eyes, my ears my mouth, now knowing it wasn’t true but at least it’s gone, or would I rather tell myself I’m crazy just to keep you here a little longer, until ultimately the memory dies anyway?
But I have come to the conclusion that I am not crazy. I hold these parts of me strong, and why I may never let go is because I know how real it was. Why must I consider myself crazy, then? Perhaps it isn’t crazy. Confidentially I can say it’s this feeling inside me, and tell me if you know what I’m talking about, although I feel as if no one would. I go like a piece of white paper, absolutely blank. Sit and stare, sit and stare, as my mind travels through you, visions and thoughts choking my brain until all my focus and purpose comes crashing out and all that’s left there is you. And at the most inconvenient time, too. I am sorry, for I know I mustn’t act in a way after only such an amount of time. And I know I hold on too tight but it is only because of the thing I can deny no more, which is that I miss you with all of my being and, right now, I do not believe I can stop. I am struck by awareness of my ridiculousness, my irrationality easing me into my state of wonder and compulsion, but the thing is, I sit here and I am aware of what I am missing out on, and confidently I can say that I miss it.