Mistake.

My main mistake was to let you see me as i am, exposing myself for you shamelessly, virtue crumpled and thrown on the floor like an old letter i forgot to send to you long ago, telling you how i feel. I was just so tired of hiding, and with you next to me it all came so easily, first person i have felt so close to in a long, long time. Words flowing like clear spring water, unable to stop myself i talked and talked, nearly to the point of being sick of hearing my own voice, so much, in fact, that i wanted to drop to my knees and vomit the rest of my speech, get it out of my system as fast as i could.
Yet you never treated that as a mistake, instead listening to me intently, like i was saying something so profound, you were afraid to miss a single syllable, as if it meant losing the ability to make sense of anything that followed from that point on. Though i myself can hardly make any meaning of the incoherent ramblings i have lain on you that night, thoughts racing in my head and disappearing often before i could shape them into sentences. It felt... liberating. For once not to hide behind a motionless mask, to let go, to shed the skin of propriety however briefly and let my soul roam about in full nude. I almost believed you enjoyed seeing what was inside me, but stopped such thoughts in time.
Still there's a doubt lingering deep within. What if... What if you really did find what i was saying to be of interest, what if i really did show you something of me that you enjoyed, and snatched it back before you had the chance to stop me? Would you tell me? Would you ask me not to hide and be myself with you, whatever it may lead to?
I have been locked up for so long, i don't remember how to trust anymore, how not to be paranoid about letting someone get closer to me then my mind would allow. I had to work on it, and it took me a while, but at last i have mastered the ability to place my mind before my heart, even though there's still some impish voice inside, nudging, daring me at times to do otherwise. Oh, how i wish it would go away, for it brings me nothing but doubts, making me question my choices, and even my sanity. Either i suffer or i go back and forth, torn between safety and restlessness.
I just wish to fall asleep now, exhausted, drained physically and emotionally, just rest a while, refresh myself from feeling and thinking too much. Warm naked body next to me on the bed, bearing promises of satisfying my lust for love, faint hints on giving me what i want of this meaningless carnal act as if it would resolve my inner conflicts and lay my soul on a cloud, in the state of that perfect stillness and calm that i can only know by pulling the trigger and splattering the images running through my head all over the ceiling. But even that only helps for a time, and the more i do it, the more bullets i have to spend each time to shut my brain off. It was not always the only way, but other options are out of my reach now-a-days.  And so i slip out from under the covers, dress quietly and creep across the bedroom floor, afraid that the boards beneath my feel will creek and the body on the bed will wake up, looking at me with empty eyes, questioning, judging, perhaps even loathing. At last i'm out of the door, and hear faint click of the lock behind me, chill of the midnight air embracing me as i light up a cigarette and exhale white cloud of smoke and vapor.
Perhaps there was no mistake, after all?
Ice crystals crack under my boots, disturbing the silence of the empty street as i walk home, and think that maybe i should have never doubted your intentions and interest in me.