once again I am alone tonight,
a sleepless wish, a dreamless prayer
needing nothing more than for you to be there.
A broken heart, a forgotten vow,
the realisation I dont have you now,
I leave the cold tears on my face,
because I know I’m alone in my disgrace.
Cigarettes burn, ashes fall,
tonight I feel impossibly small,
my limits are pushed and my hands aren’t my own,
under constellations, entirely alone.
A pen in my hand, blue ink on my fingers,
I try to push it away but this image of you lingers,
I can still feel your body, I can still taste your breath,
I can hear your voice telling me how you loved me to death.
But the satellites no longer guide me home
I dont hear your voice on the telephone,
just a memory
of your kiss,
I loved you too much.
Not one of my favourites at all, but this poem was written – like others in 2008 – during a time when I was falling apart entirely. I don’t know how much of my relationship failings to blame on BPD, and how much is just the result of me being entirely incompetent. I have always loved too much. Too strongly. I love with an iron grip; twisting my way around a person entirely so they can never escape. Each boyfriend has been The One, without a doubt. I’ve loved them entirely, with every ounce of my body and soul. Handed over money to fund their habits, because giving gifts means receiving more love.
Shrugged off affairs and one night stands. Forgiven each and every man who cheated on me. Accepted it, so long as he didn’t ever leave me. It hurt – oh, it hurt like hell – but I simply couldn’t stand to lose somebody so close to me. Even if it meant sharing them.
I needed. I wanted. I grasped. There’s a song by James called Tomorrow, which has lyrics which sum it up perfectly:
“Now your grip’s too strong, you can’t catch love with a net or a gun”
I’ve attempted to catch love using any means possible. Self-harm. Starvation. Begging. Tearing chunks of hair out as proof of my distress. Clinging to his arm even as he walks out of the door. Refusing to leave. Refusing to move. Refusing to get out of bed. Refusing to accept it’s over.
I’ve destroyed a lot of lives.