It is beginning to rain - a soft sprinkling, as if the clouds are undecided. The world rains its tears for me, because mine are absent.
"Bring it down, let it pour!" I will this worldly release that I can't seem to give myself. I am sad at reality's bleak picture, but I am beyond tears.
What's wrong? What's wrong? Everything and nothing; that is, everything I thought was real but was really nothing at all. I've been making out like he's been untrue; a man of poor character. I am the poor character - I've been telling myself the most wonderful untruths...oh, the most beautiful lies.
Clare Bowditch sings this song called "the most beautiful lies". She has released this amazing stripped down version, where she casts out her voice which is soaked with pain, fury and heartbreak...and beauty, such beauty. It is a heavy cloud of emotion that surrounds you, lifts you from the ground and by songs ends, you have been dropped from the great height to which you soared.
I have been telling myself many wonderful lies; painted many false pictures. I'm not sure what is worse - knowing these things are untrue, or realising I was the one to falsify everything.
If I could separate from this part of my consciousness; split myself in two and remove her like a carbon copy - I would sit her down in a cold, dark room and force her to look me in the eyes. She has been resourceful and completely unrelenting.
I have shared her anger and disappointment. I bought her dreams easily, because they have been mine too. I would have paid anything. But John never promised me these things. He never promised me anything; all I wanted was something.
Reality is blinding now.
At best - at very best, he is a friend. He wants my cookies and cupcakes and goodwill and nothing more. And I stupidly give him everything I have; I'd give him everything I could be - for a chance. I am disgusting. A total fucking idiot.
I close my eyes. I know it's easier to want someone I can't have. Easier to give love un-returned, than to give it and hope it is given back. Why want a man standing next to me, who might hurt me, when I can send my heart away without the risks?
Here it comes. Can you hear the thundering? It's really starting to reign now.