DECEMBER

"Sometimes I want you here, then I wish you'd vanish."

The phrase repeats itself in my head so many times, it's starting to become the only thing I know. I live on a twisted emotional rollercoaster that suspends me upside-down in mid-air every single time you cross my mind or when I'm with you. Stomach churning, heavy breathing, feeling the chunks and lumps rise in my throat. Waiting for the harness to give way to my heaving chest, come loose, and send me tumbling down to a dark pit where I will surely die or break some bones. But at this point, no pain is more unbearable than the fact that I've lost you. Somehow.

That is why I need December. I need to be a million miles away from you - disconnected, out of the coverage area. Don't try to call me or e-mail me or text me or poke me or tweet me or utter my name on your lips, those very lips I've kissed a thousand times in my dreams when I ache for you.

You don't feel it and you wouldn't understand it. You wouldn't understand why a specific song playing at a specific moment in the day elevates my senses. You wouldn't understand seeing me standing on the roof of an old building in nothing but heels, a bandage skirt, a crop top and wild hair in the freezing cold, dancing to old-school Hip-Hop like I was the only one in the universe.

Or would you understand?

I.
Don't.
Know.

What I do know is that you need to stop doing whatever it is you're doing. I don't think your wishy-washy bipolar behavior is funny or attractive or remotely mysterious. It just turns you into an indecisive (and not funny) fly that keeps buzzing around my nose, lips, eyes, and ears when I'm trying to have a delicious home-cooked meal after being starved for so long.

I need December, and I need you to not be a part of it.
I'm leaving it all behind.
So if you're thinking you have the upper hand right now and that the ball's in your court, think again. You weren't playing to begin with.