words not worthy

every day, this battle is fought, and by evening it will seem that practicality and affection, stability and complacency have vanquished my discontent; yet every evening, before my eyes close, the battle will have been lost to anguish, exasperation, even anger, and a distance growing wider and wider with every bickering phone call, barbed comment by vicious jab. there's something reckless and exhilarating about it, contributing to this sort of careless arrogance that is either developing or just rising more and more conspicuously to the surface of my day-to-day.

but going to bed full of self-righteous anger and pity, feeling i'm in a place he could never understand, always leads to a morning waking up feeling... broken. like i'm losing a battle with myself, that even though i want the days' decisions to dominate my attitude - practicality and affection, stability and complacency - i am starting to love hopelessly, watching self-destruction take over and somehow paralyzed to stop it.

for the first time, there are no other competitors for my heart causing this ruinous behavior; even if there are potentials, they are much too distant to even comprehend. to what possible good end am i directing this destruction? and even when i admit to myself, to anyone really, other than him, i find it so very very difficult to apologize, and doing so makes me resentful and immediately picking at something that, like all before, doesn't really matter.

i remember words and caresses and those moments of awe that just don't seem to happen this time around. and i wonder how i can ever move beyond them to enjoy the practicality, the affection, the stability and reach that complacency. maybe it isjust loneliness.

god, i hope so. i hate feeling like i have something to prove.