ok, so i've been driving for 12 hours and spinning this into a story in my head, but i think i need to talk to you about it while i can still remember what isn't the story

this is not the there-will-be-a-story-story
that will be much more like something i'd write
this is
i think
really really dark, suddenly


so
i had just looked at myself in the mirror
and i recognized myself
i looked just like me
i was happy and confident

and then
i walked over to you
i had stuff i wanted to tell you
i figured
even if it was over
i felt like i'd had a positive influence on your life
[this stuff isn't going in the story
well, maybe the mirror thing
but i wanted you to know
i was thinking this
just before]
if you were happy with whatever
i could feel good about it

but

i started talking to you
and
i looked into you
with whatever that freaky scary thing i do is
and
suddenly
i thought:
this has all been my imagination
from the beginning to now, everything

and
whatever you may have said after that
just couldn't register

and
i couldn't get away from you fast enough

as i constructed it into a story [or started to, anyway]
it became more like:

rose looked into his eyes
as he pretended not to know her
and she saw it differently this time
rather than seeing someone who wanted pathologically not to be pinned down to anything
rather than seeing the need be able to claim: you got it wrong lady
this time she saw the other half of her soul looking back at her
a keening animal in a spring trap

maybe his pretending not to know her
was really an offering of love to her
i need you
i love you
save yourself


i find this all very disturbing.

i am disturbed, deeply disturbed by my experience