Face It

I’ve been exposed. Caught with petty cash surreptitiously pocketed after I puffed at everyone about how upstanding I am.

Eliot Spitzered. No amnesty. Breaking News: I am the crazy person I hide behind snickers and sarcasm. The one that breaks apart with each unanswered, unreturned call. The one whose everything hinges upon meager morsels of attention, twisting each moment with you into Nirvana.

I do try. I’m the one that never calls too often and acts like it’s no sweat. I’m the one that stays busy, a blip here and then there. You won’t find me anywhere too long beyond what is welcome. Right?

Truth is that I am uncool. Goofy when it’s harmless. Frightening when I lose footing. I’m terrified of being seen with my love hanging out.

I know. I’m fooling no one but myself. Everybody knows. Now. I got caught loving, longing, dancing well after the music stopped.