Little lies. White tales of the past. A whole past that at this point can't be rewritten. No one would believe me anyway. Even if they did, they wouldn't understand my reasons. Hell, I don't even understand. So young. So lost. So naive. So I keep it to myself and giggle a little. More innocent. More fragile. Than anyone would ever imagine. Icing on my cake, just grab me another beer. I'll drink it all myself tonight. I don't need your help. I never did. No one would believe me anyway.
She was my teacher. Motioning with her finger to come learn. My heart was beating fast and my hands were shaking. I tried to keep my cool but damn it if I didn't break every piece of that glass heart. The first reality of my life. The first gift of myself I gave away. Too young to deal with her problems. It always seems I find them at the worst times. At sixteen you're not equipped to help someone stay on their path. Running away lead to the daze of long drunken nights. Nights she wouldn't let me touch her. Nights she would leave me out of the room. I was too young to care or see the signs. Next time I'll learn my lesson. Next time it will be real.
I was honest with my mistake. A day late, an hour short. She never showed. I just wanted to tell her. To her face. I just wanted to cry. To her face. I wanted her to know. To her face. She gave me her hand and walked away. I don't blame her. But I loved this person. Quiet and sweet. Something like the feet of a deer. Lightly touching the ground but alert at the same time. She was warned from the beginning but allowed her mind to open. I was happy. I was in love. Our time took ages off of my youth. I learned more through her eyes than I ever did with the motion of that finger. But time for us was sweet and kind and also dirty and painful. Bleeding and broken, we both moved on. Then I realized not only had I lied to her and everyone else, I had fooled myself as well. It was too late. I just like fucking you wasn't the last words I had hoped to hear as our time faded into the background.
I think at the beginning it was for your looks. Had them on my fish hook. And then it was your smile. And then your heart. I never expected you. I think that's why it was so easy to love you. But when one person wants a relationship and the other wants a fuck buddy with a label, your views tend to conflict. I would still be interested to see what would have happened if I wasn't already too tired to care. I sat outside your house and talked with you as you left me. You gave me a paragraph while I had given you a piece of my heart. I refused to let it happen in front of you. Composure. It's the only saving grace I have anymore. I made it around the corner before I couldn't drive anymore. I just sat there. While you were already back inside, playing footsie under the covers with someone new.
I could have stayed with you. I could have been happy with you. You should have grown up faster. Or maybe not. Maybe this is how it's supposed to happen. You gave me time to figure myself out. You gave me time to see other people. To slip into sheets and lay bare the next day, not remembering why I even tried in the first place. To forget you. To let you go. To accept what was happening. What has been happening. What has already happened. We'll meet again. This time I'll be less broken. This time I'll be braver. This time I'll leave my jealous heart at the door and only bite the girls who you let in. A lot of them try. Still. It hurts. Did you know that? Did you know the way you say her name sends me into a sick panic? Did you know I'm fucked up? Did you know I blame you a little bit? Did you know I still love you? Did you know it's still so real for me?
I was your first love and I got caught up in that. I loved being on your pedestal. For the first time, I didn't feel so broken. I didn't feel so flawed. I thought someone could actually look at me and see a good person. See a good lover. See someone worth a heart again. I was wrong.
You're a fool. I loved you. It was real. She kept coming back though. Stepped in the way. Ruined your dreams. Crashed your hopes. Hopes of making me better. Fixing what was wrong with me. It worked too. Too well. I even fooled myself. I'm not an angel. I'm not worth the world or your life or your heart. I'm worth what I give. So if I give you a strand, you better give me back half. I have to fight for it. Otherwise it's not worth it anymore. I have to get that rejection. I have to feel the loss to feel the love. I'm a god damn beautiful contradiction. You want my heart? Make me work for it. Make me work for you. Give it to me on a silver platter and I already know it doesn't work that way. I won't fall for it. Give it to me on a silver platter and what's the fun in that? You can't fool me anymore. And I'm tired. And lonely. And on overload of heart ache.
When it was real, it was great.
But somewhere along the line, I realized that I'm not your housewife to make.
