Use Me

“Yes, but I think I enjoy being used.”

You know you’re being used. You’re being chewed up and eventually it’s going to burn and crash. The audible exemplification of cold reality. His words fit.

She knew. She knew, and she didn’t care.

Use me.

Use me as your receptacle for your aches and pains, leave your insecurities at my feet, find refuge in my attentions and affections. Let me love you for everything that you are, for your imperfections and pieces of you that you never let people see. Use my love until you find no more use for it. Until someone else fills the void in your soul better. Until you are bored with me. Until you have a newer and shinier plaything. Better yet, mix and match me with your other favorite playthings. I am yours alone until you will not have me.

Then, throw me away.

Why do I find comfort in this paradigm, she wondered.

Perhaps the answer lies in the security of knowing. Knowing that eventually things will end. The tumultuous waiting game; the mind bending torture of waiting for the floor to fall away beneath your feet be damned.

That moment. 

In the meantime one can take comfort in knowing an exact purpose: to be used. Security in simplicity. Serenity in certainty.

Use me.

It is easier to give love when you know precisely what one plans to do with it upon receipt. It is easier to give love when you explicitly understand that you will get nothing out of it. It is easier to give love when you know to distrust whatever is given back in return – it is a farce, a laughable attempt to shield you from the truth. It is easier to give love when you know there is nothing particularly special about your love.

She didn’t trust anyone who could pretend otherwise, as though anyone would ever plan to stay.

Because there is no question of future.

It is all inevitable. It is just a matter of time. The floor disappears. The walls melt away. You feel your stomach knotting and the world spins around you in darkness.

Until suddenly, someone new takes your hand. They need you. The spinning stops. The world begins to make sense again as you begin to invest yourself once more.

You put your head down and rebuild the walls, fixing a shelter. You find your footing as you lead them to their next path.

And you wait.

Because that moment is just one whim away.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s