fish

It’s Not Me, It’s You.

All night I felt your body hovering close to mine. The heat from your arm resting next to my arm. But neither of us reaching out to touch each other.
Sure, I’ll stay behind and wait for you while you’re off on an adventure. But if you don’t say one word to me while you’re gone, you’ll come back to find something very different than you might have been expecting. I will be the best thing you never had.
I will not be your drunken refuge. If that is the only time you’ll whisper your thoughts to me, through vodka stained lips and slurred words, I will not listen. If that is the only time you’ll kiss me, with ashtray breath and beer burps, I will not kiss you. If that is the only time you’ll hold me close to you, in secret and in darkness, I will not let you touch me.
I am not the doe-eyed dear you think I am. I will not push the world behind me to wait for you to grace me with your attention. You are just one fish in this vast sea of sharks and minnows.
I will not be jealous of or infatuated with or kind to someone who doesn’t express half as much emotion with me. You don’t want to get too serious too fast? I can do that. How about this? We will move so slow, we won’t move at all.