Name:

Notepad

July 7th, 2005

I want to see you cry

I want to see you cry, not this drunk and stoned swagger.
This masquerade.
I want to know there’s a heart beating in that chest and
that I don’t fall for stone creatures, statues.
I want words that are not stolen or borrowed, but searched and found.
Expressed.
Expressing emotion. Emotion that gets sticky and difficult sometimes.
That gets awkward and scary but right and serving of purpose.

I want to know that you avoid me because either you care too much
or too little, because you can or because it’s the least painful option.

I want to be free. Not like the way you wanted to be free but more
or less unaffected by your actions or lack of action.
Emotionless. Unaffected by the hearsay.
To go to the same extent that you go to numb the pain.

Because who wants to be left holding the bag of “cared” when
the other did not? Embarrassing perhaps, but honesty risks embarrassment
and it does so fearlessly. It holds no passion or purpose other than to walk
a straight and direct line from heart to heart. It’s not a room for cowards
unless you’ve come to confess your cowardice.
No room for bullshit excuses, for they’re just that, bullshit.

Honesty waits patiently. She’s so good at waiting, better than me.
I just want to see you cry. See you show some emotion.