First of all, that’s giving yourself a lot of credit, but I know when you’re in this state, added concern about your unwarranted self-importance is not going to help matters in the least.
What you’re feeling is that you are stupid and destined to fail. Always. It doesn’t matter what you do, something is wrong with it, with you, and the person watching is definitely going to call you out on it. They always do. It’s really the one thing you can count on from them.
A note will be made of this in the Captain’s Log. Things To Work On. Your IEP of Love.
First comes shame.
Then comes anger.
Then comes Past Dues in the baby carriage.
You decide to burn it all down. Captain’s Log included.
Especially the Captain’s Log.
Mostly just the Captain’s Log.
The record-keeping that makes you feel worthless. The only book worthy of torching.
A little fire is what you set your mind to at first. Just something to make a statement. To make it understood that you will not withstand this dynamic any longer. That you would really love for this love to change.
Then, the smallest flame feels like kin. As its warmth grows, liters of bleach leave your body. The flames engulf the poison exiting your every pore and suddenly this fire—the color of stewed cherries, the weight of all the world’s broken hearts—is too big for you to understand, let alone box in. The singe, the ash, the animalistic smell of something honest and wild looks like a disaster to the Captain, a new beginning to you.
And now it really is your fault.
And now we start again. From the top.
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