i argue with myself. & win. sort of.

once upon a time …


. . . a girl spent a day dreaming, sweet & bitter, as her playlist played the most wistful things over & over. she sang along & allowed her mind to wander into vivid scenes plucked out of the most impossible circumstances her imagination had to offer. & then there was this fierce letdown, this rapid decompression, whatever you’d call the reason she sits alone at two am floaty & lost & absolutely fucking feckless? the thing with feelings this intense is that they evolve their own belief systems & lead her rational mind into places no logical girl would go, & then abandon her there. again. & again.

no. sorry, can’t separate self from this, tried. in it, right now, not she or her, me. only. indecisive. do i want the fantasies back? they were lovely. i could call them back now, i could spend the rest of this night & other nights, many nights, caught up in incendiary variations on this impossible theme, yes i could. or do i want to be released from the vividness of my irrational imaginings, to escape the inevitable disenchantment that follows which is as much a loss as anything else, more or less?

i’ve given it some thought. & the answer is no, as in no, the answer isn’t in those alterntives. the answer is a stubborn one, even a little petulant. silly, really. but it’s the answer i’ll take to sleep with me tonight.

anything can happen, right? no matter how hard i try to give up, it always comes back around to that one thought, sturdiest damn thing i’ve ever seen, can’t kill it & maude knows i’ve tried. oh my yes i have tried. i (might want to try harder) might want to just stop arguing with my self about facts. no one can deny that anything has happened, on several occasions. numerous, even.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

please? please just this one & i swear i’ll shut up & quit whining & i haven’t asked in oh so long ok maybe i have but i didn’t get that & really it’s time isn’t it ok maybe not but it feels an awful lot like it ought to be & i swear i was going to give up i was trying i did my best but this is different it’s not my fault how was i supposed to know … please?

***
<voiceover of reason> shakes head speechlessly
***

i am going to hate myself in the morning. & delete this, most likely.

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