He Talks To Me

The way I remember it, he talked to me first.  He seemed interested when no one else was.  He talked to me.  I think he was just trying to be nice.  Maybe he was trying to help.  Maybe that's just how I want to remember it.  Sometimes I wish I could take it all back. 

But it's too late.

Now I see him every night.  He talks to me.  But not like you'd think.  He tells me secrets.  He tells me lies.  But he talks to me. 

At least he talks to me. 

I ask him why he chose me.  Why does he try to help me?  I can't place where we've met.  But he sounds so familiar.  Lately we've gotten closer.  I've tried to walk away.  That's the truth.  But I kept hearing him.  His voice got louder every day.  And I kept listening.

When he sleeps I try to reason with him.  I even try to convince myself this is normal.  Then I try to define normal.  Then I try to wake him up.

I don't think he wants to talk about it.  I think he's just trying to help.  Maybe tomorrow I won't need it.  But not today.  I need to wake him up.

If I met someone today she could take me away.  Take me far away.  She could be the voice.  What a beautiful voice.  I hear him waking up. 

Maybe I can meet her tomorrow.  He needs me today.  We're friends now. 

Good friends.

Besides, how could I believe I'd be able to have something so beautiful?  What could I possibly offer her that someone else couldn't?  How could I be so arrogant?  He's taught me so much.  But sometimes I still have to be reminded.

I think I'll try to go to sleep now.  Maybe I can wake up before he does.  Sometimes I enjoy the silence.  Sometimes I can still hear her voice without waking him up.  Maybe I just want to listen to someone else.  Maybe she'd tell me what I already know. 

I can't sleep.  He's awake.  He wants to talk.  Maybe I should listen to what he has to say.  I can always sleep another day.  But I think he's lying to me again.  Sometimes I get the feeling he's not my friend.  But he talks to me.

At least he talks to me.