What I Have To Do
---
What ravages of spirit
Conjure this temptuous rage
Created you a monster
Broken by the rules of love?
But fate has led you through it,
You do what you have to do.
---
I can't take my eyes off her. Difficult and stubborn as she can be, there's something that draws me to her side, time and time again. Sometimes I feel I only truly exist in her presence. The rest of the time I'm walking around in a daze, my emotions dulled through years of practise, so I can never be swayed by what I want, so I can always be in control. But when I'm with her, watching those blue eyes flash, standing so close I can feel her breath on my skin, I'm alive again. My heart pounds in my chest, I can barely stay upright. It's like everything switches from black and white into glorious technicolour, so bright it dazzles my eyes for a moment. It's those moments my mind dwells on at the end of the day. Those moments when my gaze meets hers, when she searches my eyes for something I can't give her.
Such sweet torture, these scenes playing in my mind, again and again. In my head I rewrite the endings, in my head that touch of my hand on her shoulder lingers, her fingers brush my lips and I feel her mouth warm against mine. In truth, I feel disgusted at the thoughts I'm having. Self-loathing, bitter as bile, worsening the further my imagination travels down that old familiar route. . . Wanting what I can't have, looking at what I have to restrain myself not to touch. Fantasy is all I have, out here, so far from my home and all the normal rules that would apply. But I will be sent mad with it. These thoughts, burning up my feverish mind.
---
And I have the sense to recognise
That I don't know how to let you go.
Every moment marked
With apparitions of your soul.
I'm ever swiftly moving,
Trying to escape this desire.
The yearning to be near you,
I do what I have to do.
But I have the sense to recognise
That I don't know how to let you go.
---
How much longer can I take this? Sometimes I feel I'm near breaking point, the very idea floods me with fear and guilty relief. I can no longer stand to see people happy and in love. The rational part of me chastises such hard bitterness. I chose this. Chose this life, accepted the responsibilities that com with doing the job I love. I can't renege on every promise I ever made to my self because of her. Can't abandon all my principles, everything I believe in, for one woman. But no-one ever told me how hard it could be. . .
I never knew what it was to crave something so desperately that you wake, sweating, at some ungodly hour of the night. When I wake like that, I can hardly distinguish dreams from reality. Was I holding her just a second ago? Stroking that silken hair, the colour of cornfields in summer? I reach out and feel only the cold emptiness of my bed. Drifting back into dreams, her creamy skin, smooth against mine. . .My pleasure shattered by the rush of guilt, the rational side of my brain wanting to know what the hell I think I'm doing, how I could let this happen. Even when the last vestiges of sleep evaporate from my mind, the guilt still lingers. But that doesn't stop the tears from falling, from sobs racking my body and choking me so hard I can no longer breathe and no longer want to.
Those nights are a hell Dante could not have imagined, but in some ways the mornings are worse. A faint throbbing headache, enough to make me rub my temple once in a while, enough to make my dreams come flooding back to me. One glance at her and I'm there again, surrounded by the scent and feel of her, the electric touch of her bare skin on mine. I have to pretend that nothing's amiss, keep cool, stay in character, maintain this fa硤e of control I've allowed them to build up around me. But one look at her, and I can feel all my fragile, brittle defences starting to crumble. She understands this space between us, why it has to be there. Her armour is as firmly in place as mine. But behind it is a woman who wants only to love and be loved. Can I deny her that? No matter how hard I try to justify my wants and desires, something always keeps me from her.
---
A glowing ember, Burning hot, Burning slow. Deep within I'm shaken By the violence of existing For only you.
---
I cling to the wall for support, fighting to overcome the tide of misery that has welled up inside me for so long. Sometimes this happens, in the early hours of the bleak, horrible mornings that herald a hollow, empty day. A day where all the caffeine jitters in the world can't make up for the dull ache inside me, the sense that I'm all alone, that no immortal in the cosmos gives a damn what happens to me, what happens to any of us. But someone cares. I keep her at arm's length time, after time, chastising myself. But she keeps coming back. For what, I don't know any more. I don't know what I can offer her, what she even wants from me. Both those thoughts are lies. I know, but I try to fool myself. Even though every touch of hers makes my soul explode into fireworks, still I walk away, shaking with a desire impossible to fulfil. I walk back to an empty bed, and wonder how many sleepless nights I can take before the cracks start to show during the harsh light of day. . .
---
I know I can't be with you, I do what I have to do. But I have the sense to recognise That I don't know how to let you go. I don't know how to let you go.
---
The End