day 172

I am realizing that I wanted to stay in love for the wrong reasons. I wanted to hold a hand in grocery stores, walk patiently, and talk effortlessly. What I realized I had been doing for a year was holding a hand for dear life. Hoping I would be found. Rushing in aisles I wasn't ready to walk in, walking quick and hoping to not be noticed. My words were meaningful but I spoke with the intent to stay in love. To keep everything broken together without cutting myself. How often had I found myself lost while looking into his soul? He is not my iron wine or the drunken escape I need. He is drunk, I am wine and I was waiting for him to sober up. Why I write about him still fascinates me. I sneak around social networks and erase text messages like high school parties, drunk. I block and unblock, but I am found... I am not sure why I want to be lost so I can be found in his eyes anymore.