tired.

I just keep splintering off pieces, you know? Hurling myself into the next romantic adventure because I can't get out of my head that tiny flicker of hope that one of these times it's going to click and there will be a chemical reaction, a massive explosion, and when the smoke clears, it will be me and one of these men, slightly singed, but upright and together on the scorched earth. 

I just keep doing it. Whether is lasts a minute or an evening or a few weeks or longer, I just take a big swig of air and dive in to the gaping gash of all things unsure and unsteady. 

And maybe I'm a little reckless with my heart, but I've had to live through the repercussions time and again, so I know what I'm in for. I do it anyway. I'm open and I do it anyway. 

But you know what? I'm weary. I feel fragmented. Bent. I'm tired of being the brave one. Just once, I'd like to know what it feels like to be touched in a way that the other person's caress is an answer instead of a question. "Yes." It will say. "Yes. I get it. It's you, it's you." Not, "What if? What if there is someone better? This feels good right now, but is this what I want? Is this what you want? Do you really want me? Is this what we both want? What if there is something better?" 

I demand to be the 'something better' in the narrative of my own life. I've got enough questions of my own, I want some answers. 

And maybe it's me, you know. Maybe I need to step back and take a few calm breaths instead of one harrowing gasp between endeavors. I bounce from hurt to hurt like I'm unaffected, but I feel it building something and I don't want to be a broken person that takes a leap because it's just another way of going through the motions. 

God.

Because this shouldn't feel like going through the motions, I don't think. Maybe for some people, but not for me. 

I'm just tired, you know? Tired of everything sort of falling into place and then I look around and realize how much hasn't really fallen into place. I don't really expect it to, but how do I take steps in the right direction? I'm tired of sex being a way to hurt your friends or strangers or anyone who gives a damn. And I'm just really over holding my head high and pretending I don't care who is having sex with whom and who is actually fucking me over. I don't want to be the bigger person. I want to throw a public fit in the middle a crowded area. But I won't. I don't think I have it in me. There's only so much peace I can disturb.

And it's a good life, but god damn. My heart hurts. For no one in particular, and I think that's the problem. If it was one person, I could get a hold on it. Harness energy from it. Use it to fuel something inside me that burns and strives and moves forward. I'm so good when I've got something on which to focus. But it's not one person, not this time. It's this whirlwind of leaves that's surrounded me and I'm spinning around and around and there's no hope in catching any of them, of gaining any semblance of control. 

But I'm tired of spinning. I'm done with it for now.