The long trip sheds my overconfidence and the delusional thought that I'd love you fades more quickly than I'm ready for, and holding my hand to my heart has become more useless than pretending nothing's wrong. It's a miracle that I can convince myself over and over of something my heart refuses, but I've always been tragically gullible in ways that hurt you more than me.
This pulling and pushing inside my chest is my own fault, and I'll have to face my lie sooner rather than later, so with heavy heart I'll let myself breathe water, calm down for a while, and sleep, because that's all you can do sometimes.
