Scribbled on Paper

I can do this.

She’s wrong.

She says I can’t.

What the fuck does she know?

Fucking woman.

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Just because I don’t want to talk about it.
Don’t see what it has to do with anything anyway.
Just because

Anyone else.

Fucking woman.

Anyone else it would be fine.

Fucking

Anyone else would get Amber.

But no. Not her.

Anyone else wouldn't ask about that anyway. Choose another damn subject. But no, she has to go right there, and then call foul.

Fucking woman complains when she goes in for the hard stuff, when she gets the fucking truth and it’s not all fucking kittens and roses. When that's...

She wants that, she’s looking in the wrong fucking direction.

She judges me on that, just on that.

She just doesn’t see it, doesn’t fucking get it and she’s not going to. She thinks everything is going to crash and burn and she can’t see passed that.

Wants everything to crash and burn?

Maybe it’d be easier that way. Just end it. Stop. Easier to give up.

Fucking – I thought I was the one that had given up on the fucking world.

When the hell did I become the positive one?

Tried to be honest – can’t give her what she wants.

On all those levels.

Nothing.

At all.

Can’t make all that right.

Sometimes I think I know what she wants. Sometimes I think - who the fuck knows. What women want?

Different =/= that different?

Maybe
Maybe not
Not an option anyway

Not there anymore.

Then - other level, wants me to not be that? Wants me to fail? Easier? Maybe that's what she wants. For this to just all be over?

No - fear =/= want
Can't be that, can't be perfect, can't be approaching that.

But that doesn’t equal failure.

I can’t give her what she wants. Doesn’t mean I can’t be what I need to be. I can. To other people. What they need me to be. Just not to her.

She wanted honesty. That’s all I have to give her.

But that means I can’t be something I’m not with her.

Other people get what they want. She gets what I am and that's not what she wants.

And that – gets me here.

No win situation.
She thinks that this is all there is.

Never going to win.

But I never have. Never will. Learned not to wish for that a long time ago. No matter what she thinks.

Don’t want to win – just want to survive. Everything else is a bonus.

I can do this.

She can do this.

Maybe together we can do something we couldn’t do alone.

And still she’ll probably not believe it.