A "weight" lifted from my shoulders, pulled away in a singular moment. A lie that had been admitted, but one that I knew would ruin everything. That I could not care. That I would never care, despite all your effort. You would be disgusted in such a heartless creature that only lives for himself, but I know you. You wouldn't ever admit it, because even if I don't care, you do. I had to take it into my own hands. To stand up for you, against myself.
It wasn't a burden, no but rather a part of me. Removing such a thing made me feel so light, so terribly, nauseously light, like a corpse.
"Honesty is the best policy", I had always believed. I honestly believed I was set in stone, that I could never truly care for you or for anyone.
It was only a day that I was separated from you. It was only a day in which every corner rounded made me think I was going to bump into you. It was only a day in which every noise outside at night was you somehow finding your way here. It was only a day in which I lied down face first in bed for hours, thinking of nothing.
The worst part was I couldn't tell if I was actually hurt or pretending, pretending like I always have due to my "condition". I thought you were the only thing I could care for, but what if I was lying so well even I couldn't tell?
I can't distinguish emotion, but I want to.
At first it was nothing, nothing at all, until I began thinking of all of this. Then it was emptiness, then sorrow.
I had reaped what I had sown only a few hours ago.
Blue, a color that naturally belongs with you, shouldn't have been percievable to me.
Yellow, similarly should have been only seen as grey by me.
Why should I see any colors that are YOURS after what I had done for so many years?
But then, you understood, you agreed to wait, nothing changed between us. Just like you've always been, just like I always want you to be. Together once more.
I want you. But I do not know if it is love, or the mask of it. Has the mask melded to my face in the heat of "passion", truly changing me? Can I truly care now? Or am I just fooling myself, as I fooled others.
If I don't care about anything, why do I cry writing this.
If I do care, why do I not flinch at the worst of atrocities? Why does it only matter to me when you get hurt? I could kill a thousand children, destroy a million earths without skipping a beat. But to pinch you would mean a total breakdown. Why are you the exclusion? Why do I not see you as a tool? Or has my mind taken to seeing ME as a tool?