If I’m sad about something, and I dismiss my sadness by saying, “Oh, well, it was for the best,” then I’m probably not willing or able to explore how I’m feeling. If I’m angry with someone, and I say,”Oh, it doesn’t matter, I don’t care,” then I probably don’t know what I’m really feeling. On the other hand, if we can allow ourselves to be gentle with ourselves no matter what our feelings may be, we have the chance of discovering the very deep roots of who we are.
I wonder if you know yet that you’ll leave me. That you are a child playing with matches and I have a paper body. You will meet a girl with a softer voice and stronger arms and she will not have violent secrets or an affection for red wine or eyes that never stay dry. You will fall into her bed and I’ll go back to spending Friday nights with boys who never learn my last name.
I have chased off every fool who has tried to sleep beside me.
You think it’s romantic to fuck the girl who writes poems about you. You think I’ll understand your sadness because I live inside my own.
But I will show up at your door at 2 am, wild-eyed and sleepless. And try and find some semblance of peace in your breastbone and you will not let me in. You will tell me to go home.
Do not settle for less than exactly what you want. Your heart’s desires are there for a reason. Chase them. Pursue them relentlessly. Do not lose sight of your goals. They are your very reason for being.