what do you call deja vu that passes along?

there are times when i feel like (often pretty sure that) i’m doing exactly what he used to do to me. well, not exactly.
because if it had been him in a funk tonight angry & ready to leave, he would’ve. & forced me to somehow follow. to decide first if i would so choose to follow.

a little part of me wants to speak up & say “hey,  that’s only what you remember because it stands out. it hurt.” but i can’t think of a time he waited. he took a breath & gave himself/me that margin that i just allowed daniel.

he did it three times to me, & the third time he hurt me so much first that i didn’t follow. and that has made all the difference. [/frost]

the anger, the reticence, the unspoken challenge to keep up–it was all there three hours ago.
except he never broke, not to me. he relented, but only after i answered the challenge & took up that pursuit. i cracked.

i wonder if i’m going to sleep today, or when. i shouldn’t drive to OAK half-conscious, though.

Saha & Andre are flying in in 17 hours. that is honestly the only thing keeping me going through this day.

Denise is dead. & i don’t even know if her hard drive survived.

i just started masteringphysics, & i have two problem sets plus an essay also due today. thankfully, locking in 69% of mp wasn’t too terrible.
this 93 set has been haunting me since monday though. & i completely have no idea what’s going on in c30. i wish i could afford to skip this hw, but my midterm results threaten me with having to retake.

my telebears phase 2 is monday. wtf. when did this sneak up on me.

i remember being lost, confused, & hurt. i remember just wanting to know what was in his head, to tell him the world–and his life–would be alright, to let that thick skull know i loved him. i still do, because i meant it, & i will not make a liar out of myself. because it was truth–it’s truth, and truth just is. is eternal.

the thing is, i don’t know where my Bobby is, where he went, what they did to and with him. i don’t know this Kim any more. this isn’t my Drake.

so my now-self believes that my heart’s core is brittle with cold, and immensely intensely scared to let it shatter again.

but oh, the habits of his i’ve picked up. what you did to me, Bobby boy, i pass on. i guess we really were too alike for our own good.


About xkawai

I write to find out what I'm thinking.
This entry was posted in nights, pennies and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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