The Math.
02/09/03,
5:40 AM
I did the math today,
shook my head, did it again,
still couldn't escape the thought today
that the math just might answer all
my questions about you
and the storm that brew between us
and came to send us our seperate ways.
And you left saying that there was a
time for everything.
I shuddered in thoughts today that
these numbers revealed a
frightening truth to me,
and they're still flying
back and fourth in my head:
the equation that's left me bleeding.
I did the math all day today
over and over again in my head,
hoping to see that somewhere
I was missing the right number or adding
something wrong to this confusing equation
so I could dismiss this revelation
as a product of my paranoid mind.
I couldn't help but remember the new
window you opened for me that autumn night
a day before you left, months before
you returned, seemingly mysterious
and confusing me with things unspoken,
and nine months before you
slammed the door back in my face
and screamed behind it as you locked
it and tore my life to shreds.
I've chewed on this, watched as this
faultline behind us continued to separate
us so far I can no longer see anything of you
you save for dreams.
I kept choking on the memories of the rising
differences in perspective and the
uncertain motives behind all you
said and provoked and did.
I couldn't swallow the lump in my throat;
the difference that grew between me and you
that I've tried to swallow for so long.
I couldn't help but wonder again just
why you kicked me down for refusing
to let go and grow and put
childish things away.
But you said there was a time for everything.
Then I did the math today.
I stared off into space today,
shocked at the implications of the equation.
Questions perhaps answered by another question.
In the math I did today
I reflected on that evening
where you opened a new window of
experience to me.
I reflected on how I thought
that autumn night that
one plus one made us one
and now I'm stuck thinking,
in light of the nine,
in light of the bitter silence broken
by a sudden, unprovoked faultline:
what if one plus one made three?
What if that's why you
said you gave up in your
hopes of me changing,
or even giving you a response
beyond my blank stare,
or why you said I never showed
any indication of evolving?
What if one and one made three,
you divided us, and hid
the origin of the three from me?
What kind of person would I be?
Am I really so hopeless that
you'd hide the origin of
the three away from me, that
you'd take the option of being
part of the equation away from me?
But you said there's a time
for everything...
[ 09 February 2003: Message edited by: rewiiired ]
02/09/03,
5:40 AM
I did the math today,
shook my head, did it again,
still couldn't escape the thought today
that the math just might answer all
my questions about you
and the storm that brew between us
and came to send us our seperate ways.
And you left saying that there was a
time for everything.
I shuddered in thoughts today that
these numbers revealed a
frightening truth to me,
and they're still flying
back and fourth in my head:
the equation that's left me bleeding.
I did the math all day today
over and over again in my head,
hoping to see that somewhere
I was missing the right number or adding
something wrong to this confusing equation
so I could dismiss this revelation
as a product of my paranoid mind.
I couldn't help but remember the new
window you opened for me that autumn night
a day before you left, months before
you returned, seemingly mysterious
and confusing me with things unspoken,
and nine months before you
slammed the door back in my face
and screamed behind it as you locked
it and tore my life to shreds.
I've chewed on this, watched as this
faultline behind us continued to separate
us so far I can no longer see anything of you
you save for dreams.
I kept choking on the memories of the rising
differences in perspective and the
uncertain motives behind all you
said and provoked and did.
I couldn't swallow the lump in my throat;
the difference that grew between me and you
that I've tried to swallow for so long.
I couldn't help but wonder again just
why you kicked me down for refusing
to let go and grow and put
childish things away.
But you said there was a time for everything.
Then I did the math today.
I stared off into space today,
shocked at the implications of the equation.
Questions perhaps answered by another question.
In the math I did today
I reflected on that evening
where you opened a new window of
experience to me.
I reflected on how I thought
that autumn night that
one plus one made us one
and now I'm stuck thinking,
in light of the nine,
in light of the bitter silence broken
by a sudden, unprovoked faultline:
what if one plus one made three?
What if that's why you
said you gave up in your
hopes of me changing,
or even giving you a response
beyond my blank stare,
or why you said I never showed
any indication of evolving?
What if one and one made three,
you divided us, and hid
the origin of the three from me?
What kind of person would I be?
Am I really so hopeless that
you'd hide the origin of
the three away from me, that
you'd take the option of being
part of the equation away from me?
But you said there's a time
for everything...
[ 09 February 2003: Message edited by: rewiiired ]
