Replacement

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Photo Credit: johnberd at deviantart.com

A voice from the past,
from behind doors
I’ve locked in triplicate,
coming through on white screens,
this voice that asks,
“What are you doing?”
while I’m left wondering,
“Why am I answering?”

And I don’t know why
except that it feels
almost like it would feel
if it were you and not him.

If it were you,
who loved me in person,
who celebrated me,
if only for a moment,

but it’s him,
one who tore my skin
with taloned words,
who wrapped me
in razor wire
and asked why I cried.

He wants to pretend again,
make me the focus of his wondering,
his unanswered fascination,
and I want to say yes
because I can pretend it’s you.

***

I have loved very few men in my life, and I’ve truly loved only one, the one I write to here, for all of you to read. Today, one of those men reached out to me, one whose love was destructive for me but who I loved nonetheless. After seven years of silence, he wrote to me wanting to see me, perhaps wanting more than a lunch date. People are hard to read through email, and he’s never been easy to read anyway. He spoke of his “recurrent fascination” with me, and it seems he knows how to still get to me. I don’t know how to respond since our last conversation was rather contentious. I’ve waited so long for Johnny to write or call, to send me some sign that I’ve crossed his mind, and now David has done just that. And I want so badly for it to be Johnny, that I’m considering using David as a replacement for someone who can’t be replaced. So…yeah.

~Patience

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