Never? I don’t remember ever saying that. I said I would try. “I’m
gonna pour myself into this,” I had said. “All of me there is. Gonna
give every ounce of myself to this.” And I meant it. I swore it to
you, swore my soul stood behind every word, every intention. Offered
up a supplication that it wouldn’t be only my weak will; I knew this
never would suffice. So sickeningly finite, I just knew I wasn’t
gonna be able to promise it would never happen again. I can’t just
let my word count for nothing, let what I had promised to
you be vapor escaping into the void, lost in the din of babble, flushed
down the evacuatory processes of decay and unbecoming,
never to be heard in its original, ebullient brilliance again. And if you’re
gonna say I promised perfection I will agree: “Of course I shouldn’t
run my mouth off; of course I shouldn’t speak so extravagantly.” But
around you, I lose that proportion that keeps my angle just
and vow to collect the stars for you, to bear your every burden, and
desert every other language save the one we shared. I wanted it to be true for
you. I oversold myself to keep you from abandoning the me that is.
Never? No, I hadn’t said that. But that’s what I’m
gonna mean, what I intend now: the “I” I want to be, the “I” I want to
make real, to supersede the “I” you’ve known, who has let
you down before, who flees the grip of need and demand, only to
cry to you afterwards that he’s been underestimated, he’s
never really given a chance to prove his quality. But that’s
gonna end. It already has. An I enacted with a promise. I’ll
say it now: what I most am will disappoint as surely as the idol me.
Goodbye to all delusions to the contrary. I will
Never be the ideal I assumed you wanted. I know what you’re
Gonna say: That you’ve said this before; that you
Tell me continually, but it’s always registered with me like
A delirious euphemism, a somnambulistic
Lie. But you’re prepared for that. You want my disappointment.
And I haven’t been able to believe it, able to believe you want the
Hurt of clinging to the me I actually am. But if
You will have me — here I am.
