i am too weak to be your cure...

It's funny how moods and feelings can fluctuate.  There are days, weeks even, where I feel up, happy and cheerful, ready to joke and laugh along with the rest of them.  But then something happens, I hear someone's name who I've tried to forget, or I have an extended period alone with my thoughts, and boom.  My mood goes down, my self esteem goes down, and all I want to do is curl up in my bed and avoid the world.

I figure I'm normal, though.  People get these feelings sometimes, and it doesn't mean that anything is wrong with them.  Everybody gets lonely, right?

About three days ago, I got a message on Skype from my ex-boyfriend.  "Goodbye" was all it said, and then his status went from 'online' to 'waiting on friend request'.  And I, being the pusher I am, wasn't going to settle for that.  I nagged at him, pushed at him, until we ended up getting in a fight where I confessed everything to him.  My one night with the man who'd broken my heart on the night that he dumped me.  My two days of passion with the guy that I'm currently infatuated with.  I lashed out, I swung blindly, trying to hurt him the way that he'd hurt me.

And then he told me that he didn't want to live anymore.

He said "I pushed you and everyone away because I can't live this way."

This is something that sounds like a cry for help, and if it were anybody else I would've gotten angry and called the police for his own protection and then avoided him.  But I know him.  You see, he's got a very extreme case of bipolar disorder, and there are very few treatments that work for him.  When he says that he doesn't want to live, he absolutely means it.  This would not be the first time he's tried, and as soon as I heard that I was terrified that he'd succeed.

I tried to talk him down, but all he did was ask why I cared.  While I was doing that, I wrote a message to his mother on Facebook to let her know what was going on.  And still I talked to him.  I told him I cared about him and always would.

He told me he loved me.

What do I say to that?  I didn't love him, not anymore (if I ever did).  So I begged him, again, "please don't."  I asked him, "what do you want me to do?"  And he gave me his new address.

Against my better judgement, I went over to his house.  I intended to talk to him, to keep him company, maybe watch a movie and then fall asleep.  And then he kissed me, and I didn't know what to do.  Old feelings came up, and I kissed back.  It started to get heated, and I stopped him, citing the lack of a condom as an excuse.  I didn't want to hurt him, but even as I kissed him I was thinking of the Italian.

Evidently he had other ideas.  The next day he tried to hold my hand, and kiss me.  I've never had to reject anybody before, so I wasn't completely sure what to do.  I tried to talk to him, but I'm not sure that I went about it correctly.  He lashed out himself, saying that I was lying, I didn't want to be friends with him, that it was a mistake for me to come over, and of course I denied it all.  I didn't want to hurt him at all.

Thinking back, though, it may have been a mistake.  I shouldn't have kissed him if he wasn't what I wanted.  I shouldn't have gone over there if I didn't know what was going to happen, especially not so late at night.  It was a mistake.

And being friends with him?  I don't know about that either.  We rarely talked, even when we were in the same room.  I cared about him, but not the way I used to.  And I couldn't stand to be around him when he was high, which was often.

I don't know.  Maybe we're better off.  His mother said she'd keep me informed, which is a good thing. Otherwise, I don't know.  I believe I am over him.  I just hope he'll be okay.

and now it's only records of my memory...

I looked at his face and his eyes were closed, his mouth open in ecstasy.  His face was turned toward the ceiling, his breath harsh, little words spilling out of his mouth, thanking the heavens he didn't believe in for the feeling of being in me.  He wasn't the biggest or the most beautiful, but his heart, his soul, his essence washed over me, filling me with the warm intoxication of a crescendo of feeling, leading to an explosion.  And when we finished, he stayed.  His heart beat against mine, his breath warm against my ear.  I could feel my heart swelling, my mind filling with his name, his voice, his face, his kiss.  Him.  Him.

And then we talked and my heart broke a little.  I didn't say much, but I listened.  I knew everything he was saying, knew that it was true and fair and logical and real.  I understood, I went along, I knew.  And I left, because I needed to leave, because he needed me to leave.

I didn't want true and fair and logical and real.  I wanted crazy, I wanted illogical.  I want grand gestures and steamy nights and bad decisions and stolen moments and walks of shame.  I want romance because we want it and no other reason.  I was morose, I was depressed, and I was tired.  Later, though, when I was perusing Facebook, trying my best to ignore the pictures that people post when they aren't original enough to say something for themselves, I came across something that rang out in my heart.

Two people don't have to be together right now, in a month, or a year.  If those two people are meant to be, then they will be together somehow, at some time in life.

This hit home.   Usually I'd shrug it off as just another stupid thing that these annoying girls share, but I felt this one.

So I suppose now I have hope.  Maybe, just maybe, I will have him someday.  Gosh, I hope it's true.