You know what? I am not even mad. I mean I am a little bristled. I just have to take deep breaths. Why do I feel so much? The words can either eviscerate me or hug me into a cocoon safe enough for me to finally relax in. I never relax anymore... Anymore? That would imply that I have actually relaxed a day in my life. But I haven't... ever. I am always waiting. I wait to be hurt because I know it is coming and it always does. People come to me with their hands out as if to say "Look, I have no weapons. Can't you trust me?" But then the words! The words. And they hurt so much! They really do. And I seem to be the only one feeling them. Blades that I used to sink into my flesh gave me pain but it was good pain. But these words slice flesh, sever veins, bring forth a hurt that stops my breath and stills my limbs. I sit, I look, I listen to you and I feel my blood slow because it hurts that much.
But then you call, or you hold, or you kiss and I forget. Every hour of agony is forgiven for every minute of bliss. Why is that? Last night Debra said it is wrong to string Stefania along. And I agree. So don't string me along. Don't build me up, get me to the top and then go away. Becuase I will be up there alone, needing to jump but having no safety net. I need to be safe!
I am scared ok? I mean fuck the anxiety attacks, fuck the hyperventilating. Let's get down to me. I am just a scared little girl who has read too many fariy tales and truly believing, stupidly believing that they can come true. Here I am again kising frogs, kissing toads, riding in pumpkins, biting into sweet, delicious apples and looking into a magic mirror hoping to be declared the fairest of them all. Am I fair? Is life even fucking fair?
Sometimes I wake up and I cannot breathe. The air is so thick and dark and each breath fills my lungs with shards of glass. So who will give me mouth to mouth. Who will sheath their sword and bend down to my cold, unmoving lips and kiss them with such a violent passion that awakens my soul, restarts my heart and fills me with life.
I want to believe though. Aurora, Jasmine, Belle please prove me right. I have given myself. I have sat patiently on my knees with my skirt spread about me, chin up, mouth open, fingers crossed, belly empty. Could this be my happy ending? Or could it be the end of yet another botched fairy tale?
