There is no in-between place for trust or love or truth – these, in parts are dissections, half of me in the earth, and half of me in the ocean; half trust is trust broken, half love is love lost; and half truths are only ever lies. Before, many times, I have split myself like this, told myself it is ok to sacrifice myself for a friendship, for a connection, because sacrifice is love and love is sacrifice and i will regrow again and vulnerability is sacred and i Care So Much (TM). I still believe these things. But I will not split myself.
I will not pull my mind out of my body, and my heart away from my brain and dig through my organs for the meat you find pleasing and discard willingly the meat and brain matter and old heart that you do not – not because I cannot split myself.
But because you don’t deserve such a monumental sacrifice.
I know I can do this to myself and survive. I have done this many times in the past. I have regrown entire new bodies from stem cells in the dust.
But only after you, did I consider what a waste of this precious energy is. Why should I willingly submit to any vivisection and regrow myself from soft parts, when I could just keep growing from where I am? Why should I divide myself for anyone?
“I don’t want to keep dating…but I want us to be friends – why are you so all or nothing?”
That’s nice. How
can you ask such a thing after vulnerability,
and a connection like that? Unless your end of
that thread between us was a lie, frayed, bitten,
chewed, my side golden, honest, true – listen.
(“Why?” I asked. “Why friendship?”)
I will not be your “friend”.
All or nothing.
(“Because we have good friendship chemistry. We can learn from each other. I think you can learn from me, and I know I can learn from you,” you said your little rehearsed line.)
Make your bed.
Lie in it.
Learn that I gave a fuck,
and now I don’t and a fuck is
the smallest unit of energy, I
don’t care what your electrical
engineering courses taught you about this,
and that single fuck is
is now gone, and no it isn’t divisble
and no I am not divisible.
Listen. Listen. Listen
to the sound that exists when you think
of me when I am not in your life, it
sounds like nothing, it is the static of a radio
antenna catching all those in-bewteen frequencies
between stations no matter which way
you turn it – Listen, nothing is all we are,
and nothing is exactly how much I need you,
and nothing is exactly the measure of how little you have to give me,
when I choose to not split myself into parts you like, because
when I have me – have all of me,
that is all I need.