Doomed from the beginning, water and oil in the ending. Everything holy we ever did only foreshadowed us sinning. The moment we met, I knew I could have you but could never keep you, and that didn't stop anything. The arrangement was armageddon, and I co-wrote the sequel. In many ways my teacher. In many ways my equal. In many ways my pupil. In many ways so good. In many ways so evil.
My ratio of lust to love with you was 2 to 1, so even though I loved you more than anyone, it was still zero sum. You were the baddest one, so bad I'm still sucking my thumb... figuratively speaking, because I was going so dumb, so, so numb self-soothing, self-medicating a toxicity that was organically orgasmic from conception... even in its bad recollection. Any pheromones... we oozed it. Any leverage... we used it, to force fit a connection out of convenience... accessibility... excitement... pain... hurt... desperation... pleasure... spite... loneliness... rejection... indifference... self-indulgence.
You weren't built to take everything on my mind, but I knew you would pretend to. I was judging you the whole time, I just wouldn't admit to. Every time I was being the bigger person, I was only being resentful and attacking you with gory allegory through my pencil. I let you be a sounding board to my strife and trife because all the dirt you did made it feel like a right, knowing my actions were bringing you further from the light. Our favorite time was the dark of night, when our inferno dialogue would reach its highest heights.
You kept saying you weren't freaky, but I knew you were, so I never hid the teepee in my underwear. I swear I don't swear, but I made a promise to ____ you somewhere... anywhere. Pinky interlinked with the devil's, and I wasn't scared, because we were skinny dipping in darkness and I felt prepared. I jumped in the deep end when you double dared, because I could already envision pulling your hair.
"Die in the moment, because even forever ain't forever."
How many times did I sing our anthem, using my transparency as a ransom? I went above and beyond so that you would be the bad girl in the end, even though I knew it was futile to begin. Truth be told, I'll avoid prematurely laying with someone I wholeheartedly love because I can't bare ruining their relationship with my God above; but with you I gave him the shoulder shrug because I needed get back over an ethical hug.
I'm scarred from a nakedness that will take generations to heal, as I still don't know what would happen should you suddenly appear. All I know is that I feel what I feel, and it's still so very real. I ran after whatever we had with so much zeal, that I can't quantify how much blood I'd spill should that scab be peeled.
I just wanted there to be a time where you'd never forget, when someone thought hard about giving you gifts, showed up and showed unwavering grit. As maligned as it was, I did everything I could to be with you, especially when I saw I wasn't supposed to. It's like someone took a hot laser and sawed me in two, ironically experiencing a divorce without ever being a couple... but I wanted it all, I asked for trouble.
Was it worth it to say, I've been there and done that? I think you had to assassinate that part of me to reveal what I always lacked.