cape

and maybe i had loved him. i had convinced myself it was the return of love that i had loved, the having of someone after so long. but then, it wasn’t so good. i had been sad for longer than he knew and while he had slept, i had pondered leaving more times than he’d want to know. it’s hard this whole relationship thing, when you’re meant to be honest but protect yourself, meant to love – but not too quickly, when you can give up your body – your very self, but still hold back. and because of all of this, because it just wasn’t right or just wasn’t working – it ended. and i got front row seats to his next show.

he donned a cape, like superman - except his was more tight black jeans and leather. with new hair and a new point of view, it would all be okay. the pain would be buried deep inside, the memories… merely that. to be recounted and recollected only when it suited a joke or anecdote he was telling. and it worked, the mask, the laugh, the walk. they were fooled and they embraced him and took him out and fucked him.

and for awhile, that was enough.