she's got an army of saints ...

i've been thinking.
and thinking.
i don't feel pain. i don't feel devastation.
i did not cry.
the tears will come though. sooner, than later.
for the most part, i know myself.
i don't know her.
her, being the woman i am capable of becoming.
am steps away of turning into.
i don't want to be her.
i loathe her and tremble when i think of her.
i cannot be her.
i will not be her.

love cannot be split in two. love must remain as a whole.
i know what it is to be in love with two men at once.
maybe then, they weren't men, but they have turned into men.
one proving to be more significant than the other in my life,
playing the part assigned to him.
the other, part of my past, memories created, lost and forgotten,
memories stowed away to be pulled out one by one when called upon.

i cannot do this to myself.
it is me, not you.
it is you, not me.
the argument will never waiver.
but my emotions will, they always have.
i cannot spend countless nights tossing and turning because
of the raging battle within my ...
heart vs. mind, right?
and you tell me to always listen to my heart.
i have not learned how.
perhaps i never will.
perhaps it is neither my heart nor my mind,
my emotions dominate both.
i am rash, and irrational, blinded
by the fury of my emotions.

i cannot do this to myself.
again.
i will only continue to build walls,
around my heart, around my mind,
no one will ever see me.
for who i once was-
loving, caring, open, carefree.
i will turn into more of her-
cold, bitter, cynical, expressionless.
i feel it in my bones.
i lose more and more of myself each time
i love and i let go. forced to let go.
you tell me that i always do what i want,
and when i don't get what i want i become angry,
and say hurtful things.
tell me, does that apply to this situation?