"Why is doing something that makes things less confusing the most confusing situation of all?

                       --
She said "trust me". I knew her intents. Infatuation, love, eager to ease, to please, I see it all, in her eyes,
so dark and full of mystery, telling me everything as if they'd thought I'd forgotten their cool, soft words
that echoed in my head when I was away from her and made my decision, many months ago.

"She deserves better than me."

  I could never imagine those eyes in pain because of me.
I see it now, all the time. She told me she would not intrude my line of comfort. Yet, I found it
ironic, the way it was forced. Forced to feel. She wanted me to strip down, I couldn't. It wasn't
right. We had been together before, much more intimate than this. It wasn't right. I only took
off my pants and she kissed me from toe to head, each palm, it felt nice yet all I could think of
was something completely incoherent and unexplainable other than 'It was like a million thoughts
bursting through one door at the same time, each with their own opinion'.  But I knew, and I
know what is right. It is not me.

But I want to know, why did it make me cry?

It was because I was aware. I was aware that the entire reason why I'd left her, caused exactly
that to happen. Fate has twisted me in it's hand like a rag doll. But I watch her dangle on it's fingertips
and reach out with broken arms to pull her up.

Some day, they'll eventually break and what will I do then?

    Now I see as well...

I see another life, dangling in the arms of fate as it uses me like a stress ball, reaching in my direction,
I am a humanitarian, I have found. I will do anything to hear words of praise and when I physically cannot
perform the aforementioned tasks I go insane. This is my main argument to my lack of artwork. I reach out,
He seems to have a pretty firm grip on reality, but he is also slipping and reaching a hand in my direction, I
balance between the two.

I don't know what I was thinking, but now I'm sure what's on my mind.

"What will I do when they either climb up my arms or decide to lazily fall off? What will I do if they
fall?? What will I do, either way, about my broken back and bones then?"

Bones don't heal completely.
You can't mend your memory.
You cannot save everyone.
But I will always try.
You have to look out for yourself.
...Myself?
Myself...
"Myself"
"me"
what
Who is this?
--

An entirely true story.