All's fair in love and war

All's fair in love and war

It’s not fair. 

What’s not fair?

It’s like I wasn’t even there.

You weren’t.

You know what I mean.

I know.

It’s just not fair.

I know.

Seeming like you were never a part of my life…It isn’t a bad thing.

How so?

Some people seemed a part of my life.  And now look at my heart.  Scars. 

I would never hurt you.

No?

I’d never scar your heart.

That’s what the people who scarred my heart told me.

Well, I’m telling you now.  And I haven’t.  And I didn’t.

No, you didn’t.  But you didn’t have that chance.

That’s not fair.

No, it isn’t.

And it’s not fair that the people who hurt you are marked on your heart—that their part in your life shows right through your chest.

Do you want to scar me then?  Carve your initials into my beating pulse like a boy and his tree? Something that says you were here too? Would that make you feel better?

I don’t want to say I was there.  

What do you want then?

I want to be there.  I want my hands on you, playing my fingers along the bones of your ribs like xylophone keys

You can’t.

I know.  I can’t touch you.

Instead you haunt me.

Like a ghost?

Like a ghost.

Do you miss me?

Do you want me to? Would that make you feel better?

I Miss the Jet Lag

This one is about you

This one is about you