I often wonder what it feels like to drown.

Is the fear worse than the feeling of water as it fills your lungs? Do you regret every breath of air that you took for granted?

At what point do you notice the silence that surrounds you?

More power, more money, more sex. More sex, more sex, more sex. More entertainment, more stimulation. More distractions from me, dressed in layers of his resentment. Sitting across the couch, silent, staring out the window.

Is it love if it feels like your head is being held underwater?

More appreciation. More praise. More videos of girls who do what I won’t; who want what I don’t. His Needs are important and I should know that it’s not anything he could help even if he tried. That’s how Needs are, you know.

He tugs at my shorts, my shirt. I am staring out the window again. The silence turns to heavy static. He continues.

More sex. More control. More walls to this goddamned labyrinth.

How do you love someone who is never wrong? He would have burned the world down before he dropped his head and whispered, “you’re right”, or “I am so sorry”.

People want nothing but mirrors around them. To reflect them while they’re reflecting too … Reflections of reflections and echoes of echoes. No beginning and no end. No center and no purpose.