How do you love someone, without getting hurt?

How do you love someone, when all you bring to the table are breadcrumbs, murky water and empty shells.... when you want to cuddle them at night but all you have to show for it is rags that have been held together by the last bit of hope you hold, wishing that they will be the one and you can stop looking for temporary solutions... when you want to offer your very soul for them but all you can show for it is a bare husk, a lifeless corpse used and thrown aside by so many before them, teaching you a little at a time all you are good for in life is to be used as temporary filling and one night flings while they look for something better to come along...

And so you wait, standing before them, your very essence laid bare as they stare into your eyes, which at one point may have been so bright and colorful, but now are dull and bleak, tribute to those that have come before, gotten their fill... and left. Now there is nothing left, but listless rustling and the ever growing presence of the dark beast of anxiety, stalking in the shadows and corners of your mind, waiting for just one slip, to take hold once and for all.

You are no longer in control, no. For now the fear of rejection and the ever lingering scent of abandonment lies thick in the air of your mind. Ever present like a monstrous beast in the night, and you do not know when it will strike, looking to extinguish the very spark that is left in you, that last bit of soul that remains… the same ember you so desperately want to reveal to them and let them nurse back into the roaring flame it once had been - the former self of who you had been, before having been struck down time and again, until you are what exists now. For are not even mighty forest fires started as a small spark?

And so you wait, and watch, while there is a civil war for your soul… do you push against the demons who so desperately want to dominate you, making sure there is no more trace of who you are, a mindless robot who wakes up, eats, go to work or school, then comes home and goes to bed? Another mindless robot in a sea of numbers, just waiting for your ticket to be punched signaling that your time on this plane has ended once and for all.

Sure, you can turn to drink, and turn to self harm… after all why not? Drowning your sorrows at the bottom of a bottle has worked for you before, and turning your arms into pretty red canvases, watching the crimson beads bubble and dance across your skin, bubbling up like a fountain and running down the sides of your arms…. Such a pretty spectacle. And yet, there is no longer any joy in it. You grab that bottle of whiskey on the shelf, only to put it back or just sit there staring at it. You grab the razor sharp boxer cutter and run it over your skin… One, two, three…. Again and again and again, until six or seven crimson rivers appear and you look for the pain, some sign you can still feel… but there is no relief to this shattering numbness.

You scream, so loud, and it gets instantly swallowed by the inky black void that has consumed you in your head, you are truly forever alone and perhaps this is your doing. If only you had been pretty enough, if only you worked out more, made more money, drove fancier cars.. Then maybe he or she would have stayed and not left. 

Who are you kidding, they all leave and add to the giant stones that pile onto your chest and the locks around your waist and legs, and so you wait, staring through what feels like another’s eyes, waiting for the judgment that is sure to come.

The clock in the background ticks aimlessly, reminding you of the current situation, and still you wait…. Wondering to yourself… How do you love someone, without getting hurt?