Fragments

Your name appeared on the cellphone screen

and in the midst of hiccups and tears, I picked up your call.

The impulse to talk to you came on so strong, it voided all rationale,

though part of me didn’t even want to answer.

The voice on the other line was just as I recalled: firm, yet upbeat.

“How are you?” you asked, seemingly concerned without context.

Your tone reminded me of how much I missed your presence in my life,

but by then, there was too much toxicity mixed into the formula of us.

Under all the layers of help and care you gave

lay a mangled version of the real you, all battered and bruised.

Glassy eyes wanting me to give everything I had, when I barely had anything of my own.

Every cell inside screamed, ‘how is any of this fair?’

How could I have believed everything you said?

Terrible, twisted words wrapped up in pretty little boxes,

gradually leaving marks on my soul.

How could I have not noticed my sense of self was slowly eroding away?

You listened to my deepest insecurities and made sure they saw the light of day.

I felt relief as it all unraveled; I felt like being me could finally be enough.

But it wasn’t like that at all;

unworthiness eventually became a permanent visitor inside.

I became your crutch, another addiction you could run to

when the boredom set in.

I thought you were a lost soul, in need of some help;

and how could I turn away, knowing I might be leaving you bleeding?

I turned a blind eye to all the red flags, even though

your world was something I never wanted to be a part of.

Yet, it swallowed me whole and kept me engulfed in the storm.

While it was clear to everyone else that behind those eyes lay a dangerous form.

Completely blind to what the reality was,

venomous criticisms fell from your lips,

and they were disguised as concerns.

Did you have any idea of the pain those words carried?

You denied any such involvement;

instead calling me 'crazy,’

blaming it all on the baggage of my past.

Did you take great pleasure in arguing and coercing your points onto me?

So many nights, you slept soundly beside me, while I lay wide awake

silently imprinting your brokenness into my skin until it seeped into my DNA.

Your pain was the blood in the water and I was the shark, circling,

starving for any scraps I could find.

No words of adoration were exchanged between us.

Silent and withered senses of self were all we had,

and we weaved our demons together,

until it was apparent that we had become wandering nomads

in search of the keys that we hastily dropped,

while running from ourselves.

Our hollow hearts only sang tunes of vacancies

while the relationship became warped and splintered.

At the end of those days,

doubt began to creep in and in turn, I questioned everything.

I wanted to find something else,

anything else that would help me admit the concealed truth:

I had to jump ship, get out,

before my lungs filled with those crystal dreams,

before anchors latched onto me to pull my body down,

drowning me in the very waters you called love.

You called it love, and I believed you.

I was alone and I believed the illusion of how you came to save me –

the white knight cutting through the darkness,

lifting me onto your high horse, whisking us away into happiness.

A huge part of me shut down since

enabling and pain are on the same sides of one coin,

and having more than enough makes one a greedy fool.

All of it froze my heart, keeping it on lockdown.

My visions of ideal love became skewed, unrecognizable,

hidden from the forefront of my mind.

Questions upon questions filled the air, floating, unanswered,

and I fear they will reach no resolutions.

I never want to return to that wasteland,

I never want to go backwards but…

I wonder:

Who am I, now?