Things I Can't Tell Anyone

I do not have a high tolerance for beauty.

If we’re being perfectly honest here, I usually end up on my kitchen floor when it confronts me.

I know nice people and I know good men but perfection I’ve only met in moments

That pull me out of my body a little, and I like that.

He didn’t really like that.

He expressed it through concern that you and I still talked and I believed that I wasn’t sure how right he was.

Meeting new people just means another voice in my head, another ghost to talk to when I’m alone

God knows I never talk to myself. Anyway,

They pile up and I file away, through the night and all the day.

Something most people don’t know about me is that there are moments when I think I’m God.

It usually happens in the shower, or when I’m cleaning my bathroom on Saturday mornings.

I know it’s crazy, because I am God, and God knows everything.

I have delusions of grandeur and depressive episodes but I’m not bipolar, just insane (it’s less medical.) Anyway,

 Something most people don’t know about me is that my mom teaches piano lessons in our house, so I’m always alone. I mean, no one’s with me.

No one’s ever with me, they’re just around. My parents were always so busy being around that we never spent any time together. But all only children are lonely and I knew that going in. It’s probably my fault.

I was the loneliest I’d ever been the December we met and we’d read the same books as a kid and I was glad he was with me.

I know he was with me because we could talk about how sad it was that we were falling out of love. I could tell him about how I liked feeling subservient to someone else’s beauty and I could tell him it wasn’t his. And he could tell me the noises she made that he’d especially liked.

But he was just never around. Anyway,

Something most people don’t know about me is that I made him act it out with me. I wanted to know just what she’d done. How dumb did she sound when she whispered the flattery? Which touch soothed the hurt ego? Was it refreshing that she didn’t dig her nails in? How delicious was the skin she’d never wanted to rip off?  

How could I compete with a human? I had to at least try.

I think I really ended it in a car at 3 AM with my three closest friends. The one in the driver’s seat kept screaming at me that he wasn’t nice and I cried the whole way to McDonald’s.

I think I really ended it the day he put me on the phone with his best friend from college and he asked how I knew him.

I think I really ended it the time he put me on the phone with that animal rights girl after he fucked her,

But before he told me he fucked her.
I think he ended it. Anyway,

He’s around now. We got coffee once. He rescues me when my eagerness gets the best of me and I rip off my skin for someone who doesn’t care about anything.

I guess that means I’m still lonely.

Those are the memories I never want to have with anyone else, but they’re not all like that. Anyway,

I still don’t know how to do my own laundry. My parents never fail to be around, and I know I’ll never find anyone who sees me the way I do. The time’s never right. But here I am.