An Explanation

You see, this is the problem.

Last night you asked me why I loved you. And I was thinking that you’re a lot like hearing a good song for the first time. But, no matter how many times you listen to it afterwards, you can’t get sick of it. I was thinking about how you kiss with honey on your lips, and that you remind me of finally laying in bed after a long day, or coming up for air after spending a second too long underwater. You see, I was thinking that I love you because your hands are still soft after hanging the moon.

But, all I could say was something about how you’re just different from others.

You see, this is the problem. When I feel like my lungs are filled with water instead of air, and goodbyes are etched into my ribcage, and when I can’t seem to remember the words I have just written, I brush off the questions in hopes that you don’t see me flinch. (lately I can't get my smile to reach my eyes. lately hearing your name leaves me numb. lately I've been wishing for a little bit of sunshine.)

Instead, I count grains of sand with hands that don't feel like my own because maybe if I focus on this, I'll forget that sadness exists. Maybe I'll recognize the stranger in the mirror.

You see, this is the problem. Sometimes my heart hangs in the front of my body like rotting fruit, and I feel so empty that if I yell, the echo comes from my chest. I always forget how to yell for help.

When you look at me and the only thing you can see is all the ways that I try to keep myself together, I don’t know how to tell you that I'm really not so bad if you just give me a chance. And that’s the problem. I promise that all the love I should have for myself, I will give to you, and I know that’s not beautiful, but my mother taught me to never be selfish.

All I'm saying is that even if you sucked all the air out of me, and I spent three days in bed staring at the ceiling, I’ll set my bedsheets on fire in hopes that you’ll come home. And when there will be others that you reach for in the middle of the night, my heart will ache for you. You see, this is the problem. When you can look me straight in the eyes and not feel a thing, I'll apologize for hurting you, even if it wasn't my fault.