Long are the nights I spend alone. My nightmares haunt me still and I suspect they will continue to do so for the remainder of my life. I did what I had to, of course. Still the image remains seared onto my mind’s eye. Everytime I close my eyes I relieve those moments. Especially that moment. What am I to do but to take more pills and fill my nights up more diligently, so I am not ever alone.
Djodie, my dear, if only you knew me. You’d surely run and never look back. Hate me and curse me. I wish I could just tell you. Make you understand. I had to do what I had to do to survive. To stay alive. For the one thing I wanted more than a chunk of bread or a sip of water, was to live. To live and make money and swear to everything that I hold sacred that I will never ever have that same hunger again that I did back then.
Some nights I wake up and can still taste it on my tongue. Raw like sandpaper from the lack of water. Stomach empty, contracting painfully whenever I took a bite from the first real food I had in days. Humiliating. Dirty. Disgusting. Begging on the street like vermin while they looked at us like we were rats.
I’ve done things you can scarcely imagine. But I want you to stay in ignorant bliss. I wish I could fool myself and say that I have two sides. The truth is that the most ugly side: is me whole. What can I say other than: stay mine. Look at me again with those breathtaking eyes. Make me believe that whatever you see in me, is the the truth and the only truth. Fool me like you like to do. Call me like you like to do. Kiss me like you like to do. Feel me like you like to do. Take away the hurt for those few precious moments I can spend with you.
But do condemn me not when I take another to bed. For that is simply my nature. I am not someone for one night, but a few hours at most. More of me is too much to bear. Restricting at best, suffocating at worst. I am not good at sharing and when I have you, and my dear I do have you, I will not let go. You are mine now. Mine. Sharing in our arranged dance so that the other might never see the reality. That is how we waltz.
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