on dry land

The thing that hurts the most is the injustice.

From the beginning, in response to sharing a vulnerability, a hurt, a need for a kiss, an I-miss-you

To be told:

You are controlling, demanding, ordering, cornering, complaining…

An (always unexpectedly immediate) punch to the belly

At your softest

The pain... is dizzying

You catch your breath trying to wrap your head around what’s just happened

And start to explain, at first calmly:

No that’s not what I meant, that’s not what I said, that’s not how I feel.

He's skeptical so you persevere:

What I said, what I meant, what I felt was…

Trying hard to bridge the gap between you

And shed some light on misunderstanding

But like a swimmer swimming against a current stronger than she is

The shore gets further away and the water murkier

You lose your composure

Treading water and drowning in the words

Don’t go!  Don’t go!  Don’t go…

He remembers that as the start: your panicked desperation

And uses it to justify leaving you alone.

That is the injustice. 

Then in the middle of the sea

For days, not knowing

You think

He loves me

He just doesn’t know

My feet are dangling in the water turning blue.

If he only knew, if he could only see

You just want to get closer

Not to grab him or take him down

Just to be on dry land with him.