Unstrung

I thought I was watching myself dream through my own eyes. I felt my skin crawl across my scalp, on the underside of my arms. Those movements outside of my control, watching without surprise as someone else takes over.

Ghost.

Only when I'm so perfectly secure, I'd rather be at the verge of breaking. Little secrets whispered into the breeze. Distances extend and I can't bridge the gap.

There will never be enough. I close my eyes and I try to cleanse the blood. I can only see the violence and the pain. And then a moment passes and I begin to feel. Feel turns to immediate fear and instinct to protect. Fear makes my chest ache, pulling the air out of my lungs and making it impossible to breathe.

So I'm afraid. I'm afraid of being scared. I'm afraid of losing control. I'm afraid of being just beyond reach. I'm afraid of distance. I'm afraid of letting go.

God I'm afraid of letting go. I'll push away before I let go. I can demand a change before I let go and give away control. I can loosen my grip a bit, give a little slack, but I never seem to be able to give away with ease.

Passion? Dedication? Obsession?

I don't want to. Your ghosts and the way they stand up tall and look down upon me, two in a row, another three hours later, and I can take those on. Letting go? Fears abound - screams surround me.