Life en Croute – A Review

I’m in love with what hurts me. My fingers dance playfully between the wick and the fire, where the candle burns the hottest. I lean in and pretend to be interested in what you’re saying. My other hand runs its fingers along the rim of a glass. Some forget how a gesture can lie.

Pocketing both the receipt and my deceiving hands palms out in my back pockets we walk the dimly lit streets to a train station that they know isn’t running.

“Nah,” I say to the request for a closer bed. So careless, I think, of both of us.

Snapping out of my delirium I wake up. Alone in my room. Not quite asleep, not quite dreaming. But remembering a conversation I tried to forget. A week feels like a lifetime.

I’m in love with what hurts me, because these days it seems like twists like this are bound to happen. Bound to all of my relationships. I am bonded to my love with a thought to run away with it all. But this love is a subtle knife shoved at a 30-degree angle into my left ventricle. It’s been heated and the warmth that cauterizes my wound seems to be the only thing I want to feel.

I don’t shudder when it’s jerked out from my walls, that feel more like loose breading, I don’t mind seeing who holds the blade. I gave it to them, after all.

I am in melodrama. Welcome to hearing my pain, echoed loudly against the thin walls of the box I put myself in.

I want to write something positive, but I start typing and I am simply inclined to write what I know. And right now all I know is how much I keep hurting.

As I am wont to do, I have made a list of my problems in my mind. And I’ve been trying to tick off what has been bothering me. The list isn’t long, but I can’t let the world gnaw at me anymore.

What’s that phrase. I’m so sick and tired of being sick and tired? And I’m so damn sick, and so damn tired.

The black rings around my eyes feel permanent, like goggles or a mask meant to obscure my identity. But rather than using a mask to do good, I am playing with fire.

I am burning bridges.

I am twisting that knife.

But. I am trying my best to relayer the pastry walls. And I’m doing what I can to fix the things that for so long have plagued me through the night.

It all starts with ticking the boxes on my not so short list and finally beating back a lifetime obsession with loving things that are only self-destructive.

Wish me luck.

Thanks for reading. Sorry for the odd schedule this week. Clearly, my mind has been in weird places and I’m just trying to right myself. Hopefully I can get back on track soon.

Have a great weekend.

-Connor