Porcelain

Lovelies, it seems as though everybody acts like I’m this pristine piece of porcelain– Untouched, smooth, white, simple and pretty.

Some people want to add a little design, a little color, but at the same time they don’t want to mar me.

So I try to decorate myself, I put myself with colorful glass vases, bright plastic cups with geometric designs. It seems they’ve been everywhere, tasted so many drinks. Been touched by the brushes of so many artists with so many colors.

And maybe I end up with a few cracks but maybe that’s really just texture.

Then again, you never know how bad a crack is until the jar is broken.

I’ve had a few chips taken out. I’ve felt shattered. But others still see me as clean and fragile, some don’t want me to be changed at all.

I kind of like that. They see me as innocent. Sweet. It means they look at me as something to protect and admire. It means they’ve looked at me and cared to judge my innocence and ignorance and sweetness and simplicity. The smooth grains of my porcelain jar are still beautiful to them.

But then there’s also that moment when I can feel them about to connect with me or say something, invite me to something, tell me about something. But they hold back. There’s always something behind that hesitation, and then they shake their head and say “maybe I shouldn’t tell you” or “we are corrupting you.” Or my favorite, 

“I wouldn’t want to change you.”

The Last Time I Cried

Lovelies, the last time I cried was for myself.

I’m not sure how I feel about that. Does it make me weak? Selfish?
Probably.

The last time I cried, he told me the truth.
In retrospect, I knew it already; he only confirmed it.
It was when I asked him about her, and him, and me.

He was quiet,
And then he said:

“I lied.”

I listened, and he revealed.

It’s because I’ve made the same mistake again– that mistake I told him about; the one he didn’t want me to know I was making.
He didn’t want me to know that he was using me the same was they used me before. He didn’t want me to know he was cheating on her with me… and then on me with her.

I try not to think about the feeling of betrayal. Not just that it happened- I’ve dealt with that before. But that he lied so many times, especially when I specifically asked him.
I want to believe he’s not like the others.

Please, prove me right.