Thanks for the Flowers

What is happening?! Every time I try to talk to him about how much that poke hurt, he figures out ways to redirect the conversation. He has all of these reasons (they feel like excuses though) the poke happened, and he says I’m making a big deal out of nothing. If that’s true, why do I feel something is still wrong…off…not right? Maybe I am being dramatic, but I’m so confused! The poke is secondary now, I care more about the fact I can’t TALK ABOUT THE POKE. I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE POKE! Not only the poke, but allllll of the pokes. But how? I can see now that I’ve been ignorant to them. There have been hundreds, thousands! of pokes that I didn’t even know were happening. It’s like we’re in a hospital room and needles have been in waiting. In my confusion, I looked. I observed. I tried over and over to understand myself so I could avoid these pokes. I can see now that they are happening every day. I really don’t think he means to hurt me, but he is. He’s held on to these needles for a long time. I’m willing to help him see them. If we can’t acknowledge them, what will happen?

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Flowers.

Well, he’s trying.

Flowers.

Hm. These smell good I guess. Okay, he’s in a good mood, maybe I’ll try to talk to him.

Flowers.

Hm. That didn’t go well. At least he didn’t poke me. Why am I in my head again? He did listen, didn’t he?

Poke.

Nooo! Damn these pokes. The immediate pain I can get over, but now all I can see is a pattern. He says they’re accidents, he’s stressed, he didn’t mean it. No. The confusion and distance I feel isn’t worth these flowers. Why can’t he take ownership? Why can’t he apologize? Why can’t he see me? Hear me? Be with me? I’m not saying he’s a bad person. I’m saying his flowers aren’t worth it if he doesn’t look at these pokes. Where can we go from here? What can I do if he’s avoiding and ignoring my request to explore the pokes?

Flowers.

Are these a bribe or because he loves me?

Flowers.

What is love? How can this be it?

Flowers.

Are these so I’ll forget about the pokes?

Flowers.

Does he even think about the pokes?

Flowers.

Does he even know me?

Flowers.

Who is he anyway?

Flowers.

Maybe we don’t know each other after all. Maybe we don’t love each other after all.

Flowers.

Was I meant to be in my head like this? I wasn’t always in my head like this, was I?

Flowers.

Cool. Thanks. I’m less confused without you.

Flowers.

Cool. Thanks. I’m freer without you.

Flowers.

Bye.