“You deserve more,” she told me.
I know that. I know that I deserve more than what’s currently being given me: sporadic phone calls, empty texts, and formless promises that will amount to vapor. I know this like I feel the coming rain in the creak of my knees, like I hear the tortured cracks of my spine when I twist in my bed, sleepless, night after night, heart-sick and mentally-discombobulated over thoughts of, and wanting of, you.
I deserve more than this.
But, that’s why we have friends – to give reminders for things set aside, put aside, and forgotten in the slipshod dash for connection and romance and intimacy and love. In life we’re always student drivers and friends are the ones who slam the instructor brakes to stop the crashes that they can.
You are a crash; you are an accident; you are a jackknifing tractor-trailer and I am the car that is about to get slammed off the mountain. We are front page news; we are a train-wreck; we are all the things that could go wrong and will go wrong and are going wrong because—
I deserve more than you will ever be capable of giving. I don’t need it, and I may have partially convinced myself I don’t want it, but let’s get to the brass tacks here, let’s get real and honest: I deserve more.
I deserve more than you. And I’m going to get it.