The butterflies are back, and I’m beginning to understand why. I used to think they were my nerves. Sharp darting sensations that fill my body when my brain is lost in translations. But I was wrong. These butterflies dance through my body, whisking away the loneliness. Their wings flap swiftly, dusting away everything that hurts. If I give them enough time, they’ll sweep away it all, my brain will take back over and I’ll be fine.
But for now if I stare into the distance long enough,while letting those butterflies dance, I find the irony. It’s in the words of course. The ones people keep saying and seldom mean. It’s a place of opposites…trust me really means good-bye. The words and the actions are always tied together, and directly oppose each other. My thoughts trip on the moments between. Is it me? Or is it possible it has nothing to do with me. Aren’t these really the same thing anyway?
In a world where I love you and I’m sorry are constantly tied together, what is left? I can’t find my breath. But I’ve been here before. I can follow the path I created for myself. Move on. Pretend I’m not dying inside. Be strong. Smile…
Or I can let those butterflies dance, let the tears come, be alone…and remember that if I tell myself the truth long enough, someone else will too. And maybe, just maybe, he’ll choose me.