I need a flood. A storm with all the majesty and awe of nature to sweep through. Leave me solitary upon a mountain top and a new world at my feet.
I need to get rid of everyone in my life. Not everyone, but the most important people. I don’t want them to remember me. Don’t want them to call and ask how it’s going. Don’t miss me. I never want to have to reconcile my decisions with what the people who raised me will think. Toxic radiation I’ll carry around with me forever. Develop into cancer when I’m 38. They’ll try to cure me with kindness but the damage has been done.
I want to get to a point in my life where I don’t have to hide anything anymore. Where I don’t need anyone’s approval. Maybe, when I leave, I’ll invent a new language so only people I want to know me will understand. Design a perfectly soundproof room. I wonder how long I’ll spend running. I wonder if I’ll ever be comfortable. I just wish it weren’t my life right now. Wish it didn’t consume every fiber of my being like a slow fire feasting on plastic, both eliminating and producing pollution of its own. Wish I could focus my energy into something real. I’m waiting for someone to take me away.
I feel like we’re over already. We’re never going to be compatible again, if we ever were. I just see it going poorly. And you don’t need me anymore and I don’t need so much space, but I think we both need someone else in it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me and what’s wrong with you anymore.
I have this idea of what I need. Ever impractical. Ever a child. Submerge myself in pleasure. Hope that when I resurface, I’m somewhere new.