Breathing is Easy - 12/07/11

I fell in love for 10 minutes.
I feel in love quickly, painlessly,
like finishing a math test.
In those 10 minutes,
I didn’t feel alone.
It wasn’t quite happy.
It wasn’t anywhere near the feeling
I’ve been grappling for,
euphoria.
But there was another being
who I felt close to,
who I thought understood,
who I was okay with loving.

Duct taped chips of red and blue,
smeared in my chest,
stopped begging,
“Be careful,
stay sweet,
don’t fall in love,
ever.”

For 10 minutes, I was in love.

But it turned out that I was understood,
but still alone.
It turned out that the world is beautiful
but I am ugly.
It turned out that he found my poetry,
understood it,
and began to worry.
So I can only think that
- he only talked to me to make sure I was okay
- he only stood up for me
because he feared I’d kill myself
- everything that I perceived as flirting
has been a check in,
seeing if I’m still breathing.

Well, to him,
and to anyone else who might ask:
yes, dear, I am.
Breathing, living, thinking.
But not the way most do.
I’m not eating or sleeping
or loving -
except for 10 minute intervals -
or smiling sincerely
or relaxing.
But breathing, sure.
That’s easy.
So easy, it’s hard to stop.
I’ve tried several times
and can say firmly,
for the record,
breathing is easy.