Let's Not Pretend

Let's not pretend we care when we don't. I know we're supposed to, it's decreed by some sacred law that you are supposed to care about me, and me, I'm supposed to care about you.

But somewhere along the way it all unravelled and I feel guilty that the thought of you conjures up such reluctance in my belly that I think I would prefer anything but contact.

And you will die, because you have to...it's what we all do...we die slowly. Or fast.

It doesn't matter.

If you don't care about me and I don't care about you...will I even hear when you do?

Or will you hear when they find my body...maybe three years later, maybe sooner...because my cats, you know they will cry and maybe alert people that I'm dead, maybe they will eat me...a corpse is just meat after all, who cares?

We were once something to each other. I thought we were much. I thought we were all.

But years and lies and misunderstandings erode what is between us and now...there is just this great empty feeling.

It's like a plug was unstoppered and the water flowed down, down, down the drain...until there were only the dregs, drops of water.

The water has dried.

There is no feeling left.

Only weariness.

Only this great weariness wondering how I am going to fill this life, these years I have left to me, this body which keeps breaking, this hollow heart.

Once I loved you.

Now I don't.