ABYSS

I have never been good at human relations. I have this unfortunate tendency to get attached too quickly. Or too little. I rarely open myself to people. I stay on the surface, never really show myself. I tend to hide my true being behind derisory facades. As if revealing myself fully was a far too dangerous undertaking. I hide my words behind silences. Behind slow gestures. Behind corner glances. I constantly analyze people. I analyze until I can reveal myself without fear. But I'm not that selective. But I am still waiting for that moment when my internal barriers can be destroyed with total confidence. Delicate company. I look at the world without really being a part of it. I would have liked to be transparent with anyone. But I have learned far too much that humans remain fickle. Let it remain a dark part in him. And yet it is this dark part that attracts me singularly.

Broken beings are undeniably understood. Their pale sighs echo in one echo. Stretching one's soul towards a self-like being remains the guarantee of being fully understood. One look is enough to understand the pale pain that inhabits us. And sometimes a smile on the corner emerges as if to say "I understood you". I understand your flaws, your scars. I understand your empty eyes. Your long sighs. All these things are running away into you. Everything you don't say. I understood every piece of your soul. And I embrace this part as if I could fix it that way. But I'm still fearful. I have known so many people who have never been able to read between the lines. Who never knew that my pale smiles were just dark facades. That my eyes awakened by a blue line hid the void. Who never knew how to hear my sobs in the night. I would have liked them to understand all these people. I would have liked them to lift these interior screens. Let them put a smile on my face. Let them learn to decipher my language, my gestures, my looks. Let them know that my "it's okay" are actually "I'm drowning". But I don't blame them. Some beings have not suffered enough to read between the facades. They are lucky it is undeniable. But something keeps them away from beings like mine. I tend to leave a distance with people. Often prefer indifference. Indifference is far more violent than hatred. Indifference protects me. But sometimes I abandon indifference. I let myself be carried by someone else's hand. Through his eyes. By his voice. I put my heart in the palm of his hand. I'm exposing my bleak being. My most frail thoughts. But the happy fear the beings torn by the spleen. And often they run away. And they take away a part of my heart by the way. They give me back a trembling remnant of my heart. A rugged heart. Something broken.

I loved it some times. But I kept this love in a corner, without revealing it many times. I've grasped so many hands. Felt so heart-heartedly fighting against mine. Feel so much breath in the hollow of my neck, my kidneys. But my heart didn't thro mean. I enjoyed these people without ever loving them, without ever feeling their eyes pierce me. Without ever feeling my being ignite. A few haggard embers were deposited deep inside me. But they often didn't manage to burn me completely. I would have liked to let my body burn up under the incestuous fires of love. But there was this distance between us. This impassable distance. I preferred to drown on my own. I was afraid that they would watch me sink in the distance. I was so afraid to drag others to the bottom of the water. To keep them away from shore. I've always preferred to drift alone.

I have protected myself so much from people that I have developed this habit of derisory, superficial relationships. No real attachment. Just two beings rubbing shoulders. But without ever mixing fully. I mixed my aura with another one a few times. And everything was so sweet then. I had let my heart burn without fear. I could feel my eyes filling with sparks. My whole body shudders in the depths of his. And part of me was stolen. People are leaving. They all end up leaving. I'm the first one. But this time my being was so consumed. I had to put out that fire on my own. I had this screaming heart, deprived of the being that made it burning. Something went out in me. I kept our only picture around the corner from my wall. Others followed him in my sheets. On my wall. But I was never able to remove this photo. I easily landed the polaroids of other souls. But I could never bring myself to forget his gaze. And I have seen this ultimate photo so many times, in the arms of another. My heart demanded his, even though another beat in the depths of mine. I could see her in every look, in every street corner, behind every crossroads. I had so much room in me for our memories. For our laughs. For our songs. For our eyes full of sparks. I wish I could sing that song again, with her. And since then I've been so afraid that others will leave. So afraid to turn myself in without fear.

I have this irrational fear of abandonment. Rejection. Indifference. I'm afraid everyone will wake up one day and exclaim"she's worthless, I don't even miss her.' It's that fear that haunts every night I sleep. Looking at it. Since then I've been careful not to get attached. I have not been able to do that all the time. Some beings mark you in an indelible way. They keep a part of you, and this without pain. Some people left with a little bit of me in the palms of their hand. But I don't blame them. They left me with a smile on my face. With some kind of silent pact. A promise to cherish this tiny part of me, as I will cherish the one they have left in me. Some people mark you. And they left a little of their smiles in my soul.