shutupshutupshutup

Falling in and out, can't quite let it go. Can't quite drown out the flashing lights and the unsteady sounds from the movie or the hand on your leg and the whisper in your ear. It all feels wrong. Did you ever really want this? Sometimes I forget. Sometimes when you aren't close, I forget why it's you. I think I can be with whoever, do whatever and the thing is, I can't. It all feels wrong. But I remember now and every single part of me feels it. My head pounds, my ears itch. My stomach churns, I want to throw up. Too close, I need space. I want to scream, tell him to get away, but I can't. I can't move. This is a place I've always felt safe in, it's almost like home. But I don't feel safe. I just want to get away. But if I move, I won't be a part of this thing we've just found and if I stay, it will ruin everything else. I want to go home. Why did we decide to stay? Stupid, stupid, stupid. That seems to be the theme for this night. I just want to fast forward through all of this. I want to fall asleep and forget it all. Feigning sleep feels like the only option. It works, sort of. He backs off, I can't see the screen anymore but I can still hear everything. The breathing, heavy and light, and the voices, whispers and yelling, and the phones, fast keys and loud tones. Shut it off. I wish you could close your ears like your eyes. And then she says something, repeatedly. And it works. He leaves and its just me and her. And I finally feel OK.