Mercurial

No more dream girl. Whatever it was that existed there is now definitely gone. I had this certainty, in this moment everything was right.
But it has been a complete waste of time, a pursuit of something that never was.
Beautiful smile, lovely laugh, don't even get me near that place anymore.
I can't say that I was deceived, yet a t the same time, I can not stay here anymore.
This town is getting smaller, the roads too open, the space lacks that human sense.
Already I know I am going to miss her.
I am looking for my space, my place. Have a lot to do, big plans and a lot to study. To remain orbiting around that fake true smile, looking with closed eyes at her while other caresses her hair – not me.
Yes I am hurt. And her smile was true.
Where did I go? Why? Nothing here makes sense, it was not supposed to be like this. I repeat myself, here, now, this instant is what matters, yet I can not but hear her voice, “see you later”.
No more. I am tired of going after illusions, chasing after things that lack entity. Hopefully staying there, trying to be more than what I am and feel, giving what I am – what for.
That was a nice diner today, and I enjoyed the company of everyone. I am going to miss them as well. Not much sense of going there, knowing that the things are so twisted now, that every corner of a word will be hiding meanings and threats, that her voice carries another bell, that much more than complicity seeps under the table, staining consciousness and rendering the night hostile.
I should have learned by now to protect this little lights from these storms. Stressed now, shoulders aching, mouth clenched, I drove fast, away from that place. Pain everywhere, physical, as if to mask that other wound. Who do I blame?
What is this, a smirk creeping on my face? A false smile, a satisfied remorse? I still know that she was never here, she will never be.
Easy answer, concentrate on what is important now, what gives me life and keeps me awake. Forget distractions, promises, lures and siren songs. Find what is real.
Ulysses has nothing on me, that I have to endure that siren and smile, be polite, and forget for an eternal second her mouth, her hair, her eyes. I have to smile and choke the words. Keep walking, and the ropes that tie me to my mast are all internal. Ulysses, when are going to arrive?
My hands are getting colder, my whole body hides from that sound, those words. It can't be true, I tell myself, I try one more hand at being hopeful, a last concession to a hope that simply won't float.
No more dream girl.