The Escapist

I trace the patterns we have known so well, and I find similarities in each and every one. The days pass, and we are silent and broken once more. Yet even so, I find myself less constrained than all the months that I was caught in the lines between us and not us. I try to see your reasoning, but in the end, my logic never extended so far into the unreal. I count my mistakes on our endless cycles. Were they enough to ruin us? I can never make myself believe they were. I look through open meadows and sky lit lakes to try to find you, but you run and hide in the clouds. I could never fly so high. You’re gone in your runaways. You escapist, why can’t you understand what this means? You prefer to live in your disillusion that it simply cannot work. I want to beg. Can we still try? I have heard the truth in your words so long ago. We have built up so many layers that we never pulled away. I am suffering in your lies as I reach for you. We should rip ourselves free. I stand here, and I know I am worth every single drop of effort that this requires. I have been so utterly devoted to you; I am valuable beyond belief. I don’t know how to make you less fearful, less unwilling to meet this mixed taste of failure and nostalgia. I know this could be great. I know this could be everything you need. I am holding myself in place until the day you come down to earth. Until then, I don’t know what to do. I have always been the turtle in the shell, cautious and easily frightened, except for this — for this I will fight to the death. You mean the most out of everything. Don’t expect me to surrender to your fears or to accept your half-mistaken dash to your imaginary world. I will meet the escapist, with all my letters and all my love and the truth of everything he is. Until then, I stand more in control in the bellows of the hurricane you set off and abandoned. Even so, I miss you; I miss you so much, you have been my reality for so long and now I have nothing to escape to. I will spend my years reaching for the clouds. We have tainted our memories for so long, and we have been bittersweet for so long.