Stay Away From Me- The Honorary Title

He scares me now.
I have felt many things for him, but this has never been one of them.
There has been attraction. Compassion. Curiousity. Intensity. Depression. Connection. Understanding. Wanting. Longing. Needing. Hopelessness. Dreams.
And always, always, love.
But never before, has he scared me.
I used to be scared of myself, of the things he made me feel. The overflowing emotions that followed me everywhere. They were around every corner I turned, every road I walked. In every cloud my eyes traced and every smile I saw. In every couple I passed, and every moment I spent talking to him. They smothered me, drowned me. Pulled me under.
What is essential here, is to understand the fact, that I loved being pulled under. I loved the ocean he pulled me into it. Vast and deep and complicated, a swirling and tumbling mass of turquoise and sea green waves. I used to follow them, let myself float where ever those waves took me. Because that ocean was the only place I wanted to be.
Until I realized I was drowning. That instead of washing me closer and closer to the shore, they were dragging me deeper and deeper under. I didn't realize it until I looked up one day, and saw that I could no longer see the light filtering through the glass layer of the surface. It was just dark around me. And it was cold. Colder than anywhere I had ever been. More lonely than anything I had ever expeiranced. And suddenly, all I wanted was to be back on the land. Back where the sun shone and the wind blew and laughter rang like echoes. Back to my past and my childhood, and away from this love that was suffocating me.
Yet, I was scared to be saved. It seemed that all I knew now was the depths of this ocean. All I knew how to do was float and flounder in those waters. I had become used to being weightless, to being nothing. What if I didn't know how to walk? What if I couldn't live outside my dark blue hell?
I didn't think I could do it by myself. So I waited for someone to come save me.
As children, we're taught that we are going to get our happy ending. That our prince charming will come sweep us off our feet, away from the evil stepmother or the gruesome witch, and bring us back to our castle.
When it came to my life, there was a few problems with this.
1- My prince charming, was the one who had thrown me into this ocean. My prince charming, was swimming somewhere in it, always promising that he would come get me when he was ready to get back to the surface.
2- It didn't seem like he was going to be ready anytime soon.
3- The prince charming of my story, is also the villian of my story.

Let's call him, C.
If you are reading this, and are intending to read any further into the soundtrack of my life, then you will become increasingly familiar with this boy. You might hate him, you might love him.
Or like me, it might be both.
I love him, for the fact that he is C. He is many things. Amazing. Ocean eyes. Freckled. Flowing. Thoughtful. A little bit lost. In love with me. But most of all, because he is C. Enough said.
I hate him, because he left me in that ocean all by myself. He left me in that ocean, with a dream of being rescued and no intention of ever doing so.
I didn't want anyone else to save me. I didn't want another prince charming. I already had one. So I finally realized, that I was going to have to save myself.
I began to swim. A little more towards the surface every day. It was an excrutiatingly long process. I hadn't realized how far done I really was, until I tried to come up. And the whole time I was still looking for him, still searching through the waters around me for C. Those waters were endless. I went out of my way, swimming horizontally some days instead of upwards. Just in case he was near.
It wasn't until I finally reached the surface, that I knew he had never been near.
Heck, he might not even have been in the same ocean.
He might have been across the world. But the fact that he was out there, somewhere, was what had made it so hard.

The surface. I landed there spluttering and coughing and spitting out water. Faded. A little pathetic and desperate and lost.
But I was there. I was finally, finally there.

It was here, where he beugn to scare me. It was here that I realized just what C had done to me. Who he had made me. What he had become.

He scares me now. Now, I don't like to think about him. I don't like him in my mind, or in my dreams, or in my pictures. I don't like him in my life.
But the thing about C, is that he always comes back.