I sacrificed the best part

The rain is pouring like a train out there, and I hope I've closed the windows so the wet doesn't get in, but I brought no shoes or jacket and I'm not close enough to check.

I'm about 5 minutes away by bike ride. I'm further away in my mind. I'm eons away, really. Miserable in my own right. Mostly because I haven't spilled the beans yet. I haven't told the truth I've been aching to tell. 

The part of the story that hurt the most, the part I haven't healed... The one that gets in the way of every interaction and every intimate moment - I haven't told that part. 

The part where I let my best self come out, willingly laid down on the table, exposed, dressed up, planned it for months... Well that part I'm still afraid to tell. I'm still afraid to say out loud what happened. I'm still afraid. 

I'm afirad, but that's not what comes across. What comes across isnt just fear, it's something much more alienating. 

Apathy. 

It's like I transform into this careless monster who fakes a smile in exchange for sex. Well fucking look again, I'd say... Look again. I'm not what you think. I'm not what you think.