just floating

Did you ask her, too? Did you go up to random people on the street and ask them to save you? Did she say no? Did they shake their heads or hand you small bills, hoping either way that you’d leave them be?

I can’t picture what the view must be like from inside your head. Usually I’m good at doing that. It all just looks blurry and gray from over here. Maybe that’s what you’re seeing.

I don’t know what to think anymore. Maybe we all just need a break. All of us. If we all agree to wait a day, to skip one 24-hour section, and just sleep, or do something nice, would that fix it? Call it a cease-fire of life.

What do you think? That’s all I really want to ask you. That’s all that really matters, isn’t it? No, I don’t really think that. I don’t even agree with you. I just shake my head and wish you’d leave me be.

We’re all just floating on by, down the river. There’s a waterfall at the end, just like in all the dramatic movies you’ve ever seen with a river in them. We’re all going to fall, one day. Maybe more than once. Maybe at the end it will feel like falling.

I wish somebody would save me. I’m really not all that brave or sure of anything. I act like it, though. I’m afraid to be afraid. I won’t be. I’d rather be able to do it on my own. That’s what I’ve been trying to do ever since you left me; even before I met you. It’s a process, it’s a journey down this river.

I want to save you, I do. But I don’t even know what that means. And I don’t know you. And I don’t know if you want to be saved. Doesn’t everyone? That waterfall is coming but we’d all rather be with other people when the boat goes down. No one really wants to be alone.