Ctrl+Z. Ctrl+Me.

"Just living is not enough", said the butterfly, "one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower."
— Hans Christian Andersen.

he didn't want her to cry.

The refusal to be intimidated must come, in the end, not from a sureness of succeeding but from a knowledge of the cost of scurrying for shelter through fake retractions and disowned truths. It is a question, in the end of self-respect.

- Anna C. Salter


He sits across the table, arms on his lap.
I can hear his breathing; deep and slow.
I can feel his eyes on me; watching my every movement,
and perhaps making guesses about what's in my mind.

I lean forward a little, not too much.
His eyes follow my movement,
his mind racing, his heart racing.
I don't know for sure, but I could feel it somehow.

He talks; slowly and steadily.
His voice escalates into a slight frenzy,
a level of uncertainty detected.
I stopped trying to make my guesses.

I listen, my eyes focused on his lips.
The sense of uncertainty and anxiety increases,
but I was not too certain,
I was afraid to ask.

He was mesmerising.
His thought processes were addictive.
His voice was pulling me into his cycle of thoughts.
I struggle to release myself.

I was asked for an opinion.
He asked me for an opinion.
Perhaps it would be too good to be true,
but I shared my take on it anyway.

He cringed and started to fold his arms.
Uh-oh. Bad move.
I asked back a question,
leaving room for interested silence.

I listened again, interested to know more about him.
I was asked for another opinion.
He put me in a spot, right there.
I was speechless.

He waited for my answer,
a little too anxious for answers to his questions,
a little tense for an end to his thoughts.
He looked me right in the eyes.

I was still mesmerised by him,
how does he do this?
How does he manipulate me into feeling so small -
to be speechless and empty for that period.

He was still waiting for answers.
He wanted his answers.
He hated the uncertainty.
He just wanted to feel secure.

I wanted to make him feel secured.
I wanted to make him know that I'm listening.
He wanted answers,
but I didn't have the answers.

He sensed my anxiety,
he put his arms down.
He placed them across the table,
his hands inviting mine.

I'm sorry.
I was more than useless.
I was undeserving of that warmth.
I was confused.

He wanted answers,
but I couldn't give him what he wanted,
or what he wanted to hear, at least.
He needed answers.

I couldn't give him answers.


I hope you find a way to be yourself someday in weakness or in strength.
Change can be amazing.

I pray for the best,
I pray for the best for you.



she didn't want to be sad.


Popular Posts