wondering if physical intimacy was a mistake |
Help me, I'm falling, not from a ledge, a window, or into depression, a pit of the soul. I'm falling in love, the wrong kind, formed from the joining of two bodies not two hearts. Help me, I'm falling off the pedestal I had built for myself. Now the disheartening statistic, no longer the high standard. I thought he'd catch me. He had started to weave the safety net yesterday when he watched me, helped me, start to plummet. Today the net is missing. I can't tell if he never finished it or if I had never really seen one. I could have sworn I heard the echo of the promises made a lifetime, or was it a heartbeat, ago. I was sure I felt the heat from some long buried embers of the fire that used to flare so bright. The echo is now silent. No joyous love resounds off the cold chambers surrounding the unkindled ashes. The only sounds I hear are the empty winds rushing past as I plunge, and my cries as I realize how quickly I tumble. My fall must be broken, my dive to end by crashing headlong into the stone floor of loneliness, the dismal ruins from my life going up in smoke, or worse yet, the crater of Hell. |