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Scout on Platonic Relationships/ Glass Wall



    The letters diluted and warped as they drifted across the table and into my ears. I could hardly make out what they were saying, partly due to my poor hearing, but mainly because I didn’t want to hear it. I had sacrificed enough time blindly listening to dense conversations, only initiated to boost the speaker’s confidence. And I would nod and laugh, but my eyes were glassy, always seeing beyond the conversation, hearing beyond their hollowed faces.

            More shadows would appear, and the glass would thicken. Whether I wanted to hear or not didn’t matter; there was a new world forming full of darkness. The voices echoed and laughed, but the glass was too thick and blurry. I was too far behind, and now that I finally had something I wanted it all disappeared in front of me. The clouded air pulled at my eyelids, begging for me to express one tear, to let something show. But I insist on this cycle. I insist on this life.

            They are people I know I cannot trust, but their eyes seem so welcoming. When they ask me for something I blindly offer my soul for their gratitude. I give my self-worth to express my loyalty. But when all is given and they are content, what shell of a person am I? After I have given everything for nothing, am I allowed to return?

            The glass wall has thinned, but at what price? I can hear clearly and see their crinkled eyes, but I am at risk. My wall has never been so weak, so I must give all that I have to ensure my safety. I‘ve learned more to give to you, so keep me around.

            It shakes at the vibration of their voices. At every mistake I make, even at the silence when I speak out of turn when I don’t contribute to the enlargement of their ego. Sometimes they blow on it, just to see if I will budge. To see how I tumble and shake at any movement, how I rely completely and essentially on them. They tease at my instability, laughing at the convenience of my honesty. And I regret what I had wanted so long ago.

            And I finally know why the wall was there. Without it, there would be no conversation, no relationships. I would flow between every person and every lifetime without any feeling of attachment. It keeps me from drowning in the abyss of expectation, the doubts of humanity, and the desire for unnecessary attention. Who am I to you, it asks me. But my reflection is what is blurred. I can see every last detail on their faces, the eyelashes on their eyes, the stray hairs, and their dry lips. But I have turned into their shadow.

My eyes are forever smiling, forever gliding into their realities, always ready to observe their accomplishments. I have eyes for you only, I say to everyone, and the clouds above us have become too dark for them to see past my lies.

             Is there life past this moment? Can I build myself back up without destroying the wall from my regret? My heartbeat shakes it more than their snarky comments, more than the potent smell of their jealousy. Give me all you are, it asks, and that may not be enough. Give me all you are before there is nothing left. 

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