Matchbox Maladies

Catastrophic uncertainty of the self.

Month: October, 2012

it’s just the second morning

by Sine Qua Non

and i feel a terrible terrible feeling inside me

i woke up today, early because i wanted to work on certain things that i need to finish immediately, and i force myself up to go about my morning routine. the house is quiet and the familiar coolness of daybreak barely bathed by the sun yet. and i find myself leaning on the counter as my weight begins to fall with every heave of the chest. inside, i am caving in. and i begin to weep. a tremendous silent cry that shook me and brought me to the floor. the way it happens in movies you never thought would happen to you. i used to laugh at them, losing control over their bodies and giving in to break down. now i feel sad that i was not there to hold them as they crumbled on the floor.

there is a sad sad pain inside me

and i could not shake it off. i could not shoo it away. photographs they indeed speak so many things. i did not have to dig too deep to find out the enormity of the matter, it was always something so obvious and i have been blinded by an illusion. the space of the picture spoke to me and i realize then that there would never be anything for us to truly share. i will always be the bandit, the beggar, the secret that you would have to hide. the one waiting for an ounce of your time. how could i have been so foolish, women ask themselves all too often. because we love too well. the things we couldn’t resist bring the consequences that the logical right clearly draw the line on. i wanted to take you there because i wanted to share the space with you. it was a little joy of mine, a very dear dear thing. and all i will remember now is that i could not take you there and you took her there instead.

i want to hurt you. i want you to realize how much pain you are causing me. i want you to weep. i want you to regret that you did not choose me. i want you to feel the loss of not having my love, knowing in your heart that no one would ever love you as much as i do.

i want to keep on weeping for the next few days. i want to lock myself in, keep myself under a blanket, suffocate my soul and disappear.

because the truth of the matter is that i love you, i really really love you. and all of this would go away if only you would hold me.

by Sine Qua Non

at this very moment i am trembling with utmost intensity.

call it what you want: a nagging feeling, a gaping hole, a bottomless pit of emptiness,

actually after those three phrases, i know not anymore what to call it. all i feel is such a strong sense of sorrow for not being the one at your side. i want to hit myself for entertaining the question of being chosen, or actually not being chosen. it is something i should not ask, more so get depressed about.

from the very beginning i knew that you had already wrapped up your heart for somebody else to own. it was not a risk i took, loving you. it was a freefall that i could not save myself from. i stood at that edge and the gravity of your person pulled me from that cliff even if i thought i had taken root at that spot where i set myself to gaze at your being from a safe distance. it seems that the love that welled up inside me became to heavy for the ground to bear that it crumbled beneath my feet at every sigh bearing your name that escaped me. i knew i would hit solid ground and crash into a million little pieces. what i did not know was when, how. i realize now that in the intensity of the fall, parts of me had begun crumbling and have already been whisked away by the winds.

i seriously thought, precisely an entire day ago, that i had reached that surface and that i am a million pieces apart from each part of myself. i was waiting for the wind to blow me away to the sea where i would float and emerge once more, hoping that the part of me that longed for you would have been eaten away by some odd creature so that no trace of you would tug at my being and take me back to that cliff where the ground breaks at every breath.

no, i was wrong. and i regret that i spoke too soon. that i though it was the end of it. because i am still falling. i still have that nagging feeling, that tug at the gut, that bottomless emptiness that sucks in every ounce of sense of certainty of time and space. i am still in a continuous drop, a downward motion with no one to save me but the will to snap out of the fall. my back is to the earth, my eyes to the sky.

if i reach the end of that fall and find parts of me scattered on the earth, it would probably be the best way to put myself back together again and walk myself off to another cliff’s edge. only this time, i will find the wings to save me from breaking again.

but then again, i am not sure. then again, i’m still falling. then again, i will never know if you will be there to catch me. or snatch me from the wind in one strong sweep and take me off somewhere where people don’t fall and break. where certainty is as firm as the clasp of fingers intertwined.

if only you were falling with me, then i would not be so afraid

i could not fin…

by Sine Qua Non

i could not find you anywhere. and i want to lose you all the way if this is what i will get every time. all i had wanted was a real conversation. like you were there, listening. but you weren’t. it makes me sad that everyday i keep using the phrase ‘we have been reduced to’ more often than acceptable. what has become of us? pretty damn stupid. we were nothing to begin with. 

 

somebody needs saving

love without reason

by Sine Qua Non

 

Channeling Fosca.

With all the fear and happiness and the lack of time. and the delight in hearing the other tell me he loves me and weeping and weeping at the thought that there will come a day that i will no longer hear those words, and yet that it is enough to hear it at that moment that i am told i am loved.

i love him and he loves me

and it is not pretty or safe or easy

but it is enough that he loves me

 

by Sine Qua Non

you fail to understand the depth and breadth of what i feel for you

you have reduced me to a pre-dawn secret, a controlled passion, and calculated affection.

you have managed to make me feel so small. i refuse to be made to feel small. especially not by the one i have chosen to love so hard for so long. do not get me wrong, i did not ask and do not ask for anything in return. i just wish you’d stop toying with what i feel and realize that there is pain in knowing that i cannot have you because you cannot choose me. i love you freely but it does not mean that it is easy for me to live with the reality that you are not and will never be mine.

do not treat me like a kept woman, a substitute fuck, a quick remedy for routine, an alternative to absence.

that is not who i wish to be in your life. that is not the kind of love i can give.

you say you love me. in your ways, yes you do. it doesn’t mean though that if you love you cannot hurt me with as much intensity too.

i love you and it’s killing me.

channeling poetry

by Sine Qua Non

 

First Memory

Long ago, I was wounded. I lived
to revenge myself
against my father, not
for what he was–
for what I was: from the beginning of time,
in childhood, I thought
that pain meant
I was not loved.
It meant I loved.

Louise Gluck