"I Still Love You"
I hope you can see that "I still love you" hurts the worst.
It's like a needle never touching my skin; the idea still makes me faint.
You still love me.
The words as you pull them through your vocal chords make it seem like it's against your better judgment.
At first it was soothing.
Taking the words at face value I knew you wouldn't crucify me.
At least I knew I would not be the ornamental sign to demonstrate to people just exactly what you think about 'my kinda people'.
You still get a little restless when I mention it.
I can feel the air cut off, get dense as you commence to swallow against the confines your body has cursed you with, internally pleading 'please don't talk about it'.
"so my grrrr-"
You can't even look at me so I divert my words into something more attractive.
"...guerilla warfare project is due next week."
I'm so perfect at it.
So smooth by now it's just an instinct I've added to my list of defenses.
Preemptive, so neither of us have to endure much more of it.
But I'm bored of it.
The stabbing still hurts but I've forgotten how to react to it.
When I said that I like girls I was not confessing a murder.
I was not asking for your permission to feel any certain way.
I was not asking you to cover me, provide me alibis and a slick disguise to escape unscathed.
"I still love you" denotes that you are making an exception but I am not an exception.
"nothing's changed", "I can't accept this", "who's the lucky person", "we are in mutual disagreement" would have all been livable answers
I can breathe those.
I can work those.
Those are definitive.
Imagine my pain if you're not on my side.
Imagine the heartbreak of walking myself down the aisle because you don't get the point of it.
It's been a while since I told you and I still don't know where you stand.
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