August 4th, 2023
I don’t want to be someone’s decision.
I’ve been thinking about this, and that’s the truest way I can say it. I don’t want to be weighed and considered and chosen after careful deliberation. I don’t want to be the conclusion someone reached.
I want to be the thing they couldn’t reason their way out of.
The thought that comes back no matter how many times they push it away. The name that sits at the back of the throat before they mean to say it. The person someone tries to forget and can’t—not because forgetting is hard but because some part of them refuses to.
I don’t want to be a choice.
I want to be a compulsion.
The kind that arrives without permission and stays without invitation and makes absolutely no sense and cannot be helped.
I want someone to want me the way you want something you know isn’t good for you.
Completely. Helplessly. Against their better judgment.
Without being able to stop.