the cycle

8:00 AM

8.7.2017

Photo by my EXTREMELY talented brother Christian Murphy

I can only sit here so long and sip my coffee without thinking of you. It’s a horrible feeling, loss. I’ve experienced it countless times and with each tear that falls or with every drink I take, I wonder why I’m so apt to question my integrity because of someone else.
I have a pattern where I set my sights and I work toward obtaining a goal. I deliberate and once decided, I move forward with gumption and nothing will change my mind. Inevitably there is a moment where something or someone builds a wall in front of me with the speed of a reckless teenager that throws me off course. I don’t see it coming and out of nowhere, it appears and my direction shifts before I can even blink. Now it’s not my decision, it’s yours, and that contradicts every justification my brain has come up with.
Then I think. I think of how it really isn’t. I think about the good and what I’m giving up, and all the things I’ve ignored over heartache or hurt feelings. It’s not real. It’s me trying to rationalize with myself that I actually do want this, even if moments before I was comfortable breaking the cycle. I was comfortable because the decision was mine and I controlled the outcome. Once that is taken from me, I can’t help but try to claw my way back in, scraping my knees and breaking my nails, damaging every part of my body and in turn my soul, to not be the one that you leave. I want to do the leaving, that is the only thing that keeps my spirit intact. Yet, the second I feel my perfect plan slipping from my jagged fingertips, I retreat into thinking that I am not in a bad place and I don’t deserve more because you’re it for me.
You’re not, and I deserve better, I just want to do the hurting. That’s not right.
I look around the room and take another raise my coffee back to my mouth and it burns my lips. That’s our relationship. I think it’s safe and steady and I find out it actually hurts me. My lips are in a constant state of scarring over how many times I’ve sipped without looking. When I’m paying attention, I don’t let myself experience the pain, I know exactly how to avoid it. I blow and I cool it off before consumption. When my mind is cloudy with doubt, I dive in without thinking and this happens every fucking time.

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