Close it off

Jul 18, 2010 15:56


Closing it all off

I am free to climb back inside of myself. I no longer have to try for someone else. I can go back to myself and being the one who controls me who controls my emotions. No longer will someone else affect me like that. Which sounds like a good and healthy thing to me. So I’m not closing myself off so I don’t have to deal I’m closing myself off so I can be happy. So I can be the only one to affect myself. And really I’m the only one with the right to do that. No one else has the right to make me happy, sad, and angry. So…I won’t allow it. and I also have learned from this whole situation that I’m not going to fully give. I’m not going to give in I’m not going to get really close to allow people in until its right until I’m sure that they can’t hurt until I’m sure that the relationship between us whatever it is wont change. I’m not going to fully love again until it’s the last step until it’s that last person I’ll ever have to fall in love with. And to me that makes sense.

My heart is like a museum. There’s a line waiting outside for those wanting to come in and I stand out there idly chatting away. And from time to time I let some visitors and even the occasional permanent entrant. There are two wings and a lobby. The lobby has a greeting desk and even some chairs and a sofa to get comfortable on. The lobby is clean and orderly and looks like any heart would from the inside its red, ceiling to floor, and the ceiling is curved. All on the walls are various things that I like made to look like art and sculptures. There’s my favorite color and movie and candy and actors and just silly superficial things for the visitors of the lobby to view. A soundtrack of all my favorite songs plays through out as well and it varies to my mood.

To the left is the friendship wing. It’s a narrow hallway filled with portraits of past friends and less close friends. and as you walk further back it opens up into a room. Claire is lying there on a chaise. Classy like her : ) and josh is on a couch drinking from a straw bobbing to music b/c well..he would and holly is there too. She just quietly sits on a loveseat with her boyfriend Stephen talking mushy and being cute b/c that’s how they do. And to the left of all of this is Tori. She has her own room. It’s an exact replica of her actual room and it’s messy and full of memories and if you catch it just right you can see her and I, 8 years old, running with giant pillows under our shirts and leaping onto her bed in hysterical laughter. Those are the people who will always have my friendship and even a little love.

To the right in the lobby, is a sealed silver door. This is the lover’s wing. And as hard as I try to keep people out the doors never fully shut and are never fully sealed. It’s always left slightly ajar. Again it starts out as a hallway but instead of portraits it has chairs lined up and golden name plates. The whole hallway is in disrepair. It has large cracks and spider webs and dust. It’s a darker red and the lights flicker and there is no music here. Just a faint pumping of my heart. The chairs are empty now only being previously filled with minor and temporary crushes. They look like plastic school chairs. The plastic is cracked and the metal legs and screws are rusted. But if you keep walking back you’ll again find that it opens up into a small empty space. Here, there are two rooms at opposite sides.

The room on the left is my first love. In the big picture it was very minor but it shaped me and had an incredible impact. Drew. He was rude. He demanded a spot inside of my heart. He stormed in took me by the hand twirled me about charmed me with that humor, the looks, the laughter. He bullied me, led me around, and forced himself inside. There is nothing left in his room. it was a tiny space anyhow but now it’s been condemned, destroyed and he was thrown out and the hole of his room was sealed over. He made me sick. There are horrible cracks and crevices; fissures and chasms all around his door spreading out like black inky fingers over the floor to the other side and crawling up reaching for the ceiling encapsulating it all in dark webby scratches.  I threw him out two years ago and cut him off; cut off myself from it all. Through this whole thing, when everything was still new and I was unsure still discovering me, I figured out how I can cope. I figured out how my heart works.  He came walking back admiring his work with a cool easy smile upon his face and just posted up against a wall and stared at me with his arms folded in a sicken satisfied way. I pushed and shoved against Drew but he’s there and he’s there for good. It was alarming at first and a hurricane blew through all of the rips and seams, pulling tears from my eyes and making me gasp for air. And I stood up wiped my face and commanded my emotions, my heart, and once again I got back in control of myself. But even though he’ll always have a place he is there against my wishes and is no longer welcomed so he stands there frozen and cold betraying me.

The room upon the right is my second love. He is so different. I saw him moseying about the lobby admiring and viewing it all taking so much care to absorb it all and appreciating every detail. I smiled and grabbed him by the hand, looked into his eyes and led him down the hallway. I told him the stories of everything inside of me. Of every mark and scar he saw. Of every sparkle and smile. I shared and told him all. Anything he wanted I willingly and lovingly gave. Even if he didn’t even ask, I wanted him to have it and warm it all. I led him to the back and in each other’s arms we bathed in love. We were together absorbed in the other’s eyes in the loving stares and in the warm smiles. Consumed and happy. There was actually music too. No longer was this part of me quiet and cold. I again looked at him and he gave me that first kiss shared there making the disheveled and broken dusty appearance glow and fade. He didn’t care he wasn’t looking around at the broken pieces and neither was I for once. I made a place for him. We walked in and shut the door. His room was bright and sunny b/c that’s what his love was like. It was a glass box with incredibly green grass looking out to whatever scene was desired. There was a warm brown sleigh bed made up in soft teals and crèmes. We spent every day in there wrapped up in the hopefulness and happiness that our love brought. It sparkled around us like a warm pink aura. But over time things got shady. He was gone more and more. I would walk into his room and he was gone but I understood. I was fine and happy to still have this. To have his room with our memories and his things. His energy was bouncing off the walls and I still felt him with me. I would worry and pace and wait for his smile but even though I made myself unhappy with all the worrying and over thinking he would step in wrap me up in his feeling, in his comfort, in his warm and bright love and I was happy again and everything was okay.

One day everything wasn’t okay though. He walked in looked at me with tears in his eyes stuck his hand in my chest and ripped with all of his might. He took it out stared at it in awe of himself kissed it and then threw it with an awful force against the wall. The once bright room clouded over, the glass shattered, the grass grew cold and wrapped around his ankles holding him there. Wind whipped around us. I was on my knees gasping for breath, eyes burning with blinding tears as he stood above me and looked down letting his tears rain down with my blood dripping from his hands. I gasped in air stood up and stared at him. The wind stirred my hair around slapping my face sticking to where tears had rolled down my face. I couldn’t put it together but I knew I had to do something to stop all of this wind whistling through the fast appearing sores. I ran out the room and shut the door tight behind me. I left him inside with the chaos. I didn’t want him gone I just wanted him away from me. I didn’t want to be close. I squeezed my eyes tight slid to the floor and sat down. I resurrected another steel door to shut him out. I put up cinderblocks to barricade my love from him, and I burnt it all down leaving a charred mess. I stared at what I had done. And I felt calm. The chaos had ceased. The steel door still stood soot marking its edges. He wasn’t gone though. He survived it all. I can still feel his energy that had captured me but it’s like I’m feeling it from someone else. It’s like I’m hearing someone else’s story feeling nothing but dilution. And when I start feeling too much I go back and I shut his door I re-seal it and close It off from me and I do the same with the wing’s entrance. I concentrate and close it off from me.

And this is me coping. This is it. And from now on, I’ll love differently until its right.

I have good control so if I ever do see its right to begin again to let someone else in or to re-open his ‘exhibit’ then I can. Letting go and going back is easy. Opening the door would be easy. Giving in always is. You just have to let it wash over you.

-Emily 7/12/10 12:00 a.m.

heart, art, love, museum

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