In a million years
People say this
All the time.
In a million years
People say how they never thought
something would happen….
Not in a million years
Maybe a million years is not so long
or maybe a million years
is just “the here and now”
and what you and I see or experience
is happening, and this
is that “one in a million,” time
because in a million years,
I never believed that this would be me.
Never
I never believed this would be you
or how this would be us
Or how we would elsewhere in life,
like we are now, of course
millions of miles apart
despite our close proximity.
And really . . .
. . . this is interesting to me
Me. You.
The world around us . . .
the universe, the stars,
the sun, the moon
and all the flaws and faults,
which fall in-between
I submit to you and to the jury
and to the courts of life
and to the universe
as well as the stars;
distance is not only measured
by our physical perception.
There is, was, and there will always be
the ever distancing and ever-gaining distance
Between two people
from an emotional perspective,
which in all fairness; this kind of distance
can be harder, colder
and more painful to face
when all you want is to be close.
I can relate to the mounting
and the gaining distance
of how two people move far
and further away from each other.
I can also relate to the distance
which could measure around the world
and back again
and still
I could not be far enough away from someone.
I am sure that I am not alone
when I say this . . .
And, in a million years,
I never thought this would be so
or that this would be me
and in a million years,
I never believed how one decision
and one compromise
could push me so far off-course.
One decision can strand you away
and leave you deserted for lifetimes.
I know
I recall a life that was not mine
and nor did that life
belong to me at any point,
because as hard as I tried
I knew that I did not fit.
I knew this was not
where I was supposed to be
and in a million years,
I never believed that one decision
could corner me like a rat in a cage
or lead me to be such an imposter
so that I could pretend or act
“As if,” and pose like this was me
all along.
I knew.
I always knew
But still,
I played along
I tried and I adjusted the drapes
and I fixed the curtains
above the windows
and I mowed the lawn
to seem as if everything was fine
All was as good as the charade
we pretended to be.
I was miles away from the woman
who I shared a bed with,
and regardless of the appearance or
with a child downstairs, a life,
or at least a “so-called” life,
and with a home that came
with a notable address,
nothing had the real or tangible feel
of anything being mine
because nothing belonged to me
Nothing was mine
Including my life.
In a million years,
I never thought that would be me.
I never thought that I would settle
or believe that having something that was
“good enough” would be close enough
to satisfy my dreams.
Ever lay in bed with someone
and have the famous (or infamous)
wall of pillows between you?
Or was it blankets between you?
Or was this just air and a body of land,
which was otherwise known
as the middle of the bed, and if so
was this an area
which no one dared to touch
in fear of your two bodies
meeting each other?
Either way,
whether the wall was real or emotional
the wall between you
was set up with an intention,
which acted with the same anger
or emotional hostility as the Berlin Wall.
Ever sleep in the same bed with someone
and could not get far enough away
from them?
Yet, a relationship says
that you two
are supposed to sleep together.
But ah, the key word in the sentence
is “together,” and dare I call this out . . .
because no one is really together
when they live a life like this
Ah, settling for less
has never been better described
I remember touching
the cold and ghostly section of bedding
that went between us
as if that area of real estate was cold
like the Russian Gulag and therefore,
straying into the abyss
of the center of a mattress
was like moving into some kind of war zone.
And worse, accidentally touching that person
was worse than unthinkable
I shared beds with the wrong women
And they shared beds with me
The wrong man
I know
I settled
I admit it
So did they and they knew it too.
It was all a lie
An act
Or
Charade. . .
And now?
In a million years,
I never thought I would be where I am,
but I am where I am
and I am here
because in a million years,
I never believed one compromise
would push me so far off-course
Such is life when you are too afraid
to be alone and in your heart
you always believe that you are forever
mismatched
At this point, I am far too old
and far too informed
and too wounded,
too beaten and too fed up
and too tired
for another round of bullshit
More than anything
I am too aware of myself
to ever settle for les
again.
Not in a million years
The Written Addiction 