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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1540944-A-million-times-over
by pc
Rated: E · Monologue · Emotional · #1540944
When it matters is when you cannot.
Tongue tied and trembling, I sit staring blankly at you, trying to put words together in my head. Seems impossible. My heart speaks of things that are foreign to my mind's rationality.

I feel an icy stare piercing right through me; Never have I stared into a pair of eyes so beautiful. A million expressions, all of which make my heart sink...Only this time, I feel sick. Torn apart to know your eyes are telling a story of anger and disgust. The darkest of dreams pulled right from the darkest parts of my heart. I made things this way.

Looking up to meet your gaze, I acknowledge your demand for an explanation to my actions. A tired sigh leaves my mouth..."I'm sorry", was all that I could say. The simplest of words, containing so much more than just that. Countless times before, they've been uttered. I wonder if you feel they've lost meaning?. How many times can a person say sorry?. My head is a mess. I failed to rationalize and justify my paranoia, my stupidity.

An abundance of words. Feelings. Thoughts. Surely there was more that I could have given you other than "sorry", but I fear you. At times I speak within reason and clarity, but my voice fails to reach you. Or atleast I thought I made sense. Overwhelming emotions get the better of us. Nothing makes sense when red is what you see.

Minutes pass by. A deafening silence wades through the room. At a loss for words, I reach for your hand. A petty attempt to diffuse a destructive situation. It was no surprise that you'd swiftly pull away. I was fighting a losing battle, but leaving would have resulted in the absence of a resolution.

The morning is far too young. I watch you lay down and close your eyes. You place your hands over your face as you take a breath. "I want to sleep", you mutter. "I'm tired". I turn to sit at the edge of your bed, elbows on my knees, head in my hands. There's nowhere else to go. My words fail me.

As we bathe in quiet, the softness of early morning sun dances through the blinds. A comforting sort of warmth trickles through. I sit and think my thousand thoughts as you lay there jaded and lifeless. Hours later, we'll still be here. Never will we leave.
© Copyright 2009 pc (paula-b at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1540944-A-million-times-over