This is How You Lost Me

My heart is frozen in this place. It is shattered but will not fall apart. It cannot be broken enough to melt and evaporate. Instead, I am suspended. I am a ballerina in a display case. I am old when there are many new things in your life. I am at the back of the cabinet. I am dusty, overshadowed by cobwebs and the other figures in your life.

I still love you. That's the problem. I stay more because of you than I do for me. It would hurt me to leave, but I know I could fly higher.

Feathers protrude from my spine and back. My skin tingles and goosebumps form. My hair stands on end and fades into something terrifying. The excruciating pain of their emergence prickles all my senses. I open my mouth to scream, but only a hollow echo sounds. It serves only to deepen a hunger within that you cannot fill until you can see me. This change, this metamorphosis, blossoming, it means death within.

I know you love me. You love me, so you put me in this case. But you've forgotten me. You've forgotten that though I never meant to be here, I chose to stay for so many reasons that have everything to do with you, and little to do with me.

My wings push away from my body. With every muscle in my core and shoulders, I hold them to my body. My fingers web yet closer together. The join to form my wingtips as my heart begins to swell. I lose my grip. My wings are spreading, the other figures in this case begin to stir.

I'm afraid. It's as though I don't want to be free. To be free means to allow my heart to break. Maybe even to break yours, if you cannot come with me. I've never been the person to walk away. I would do anything for you, but I'm losing my grip. I'm losing my sight. My vision is changing, and you are beginning to blur.

Porcelain shatters and the fine glass trembles. The flutter of these new wings has upset the balance of my ever-enduring self-control. The dischord cracks every other figure in this case. You reach inside. You glue me back together. Only I don't want to be whole anymore. My sprouting feathers prick your fingers. You draw back. I didn't mean to hurt you. If I could make them stop growing, I would. If I could. So you close the case.

Thunder strikes within me and I feel a pain in my hollow chest. It is the beating of a heart that so long has been captive to a love I never believed I deserved. Now, it births a life that is both amazing and terrifying. Help me.

You can't.

You are afraid. The more you fear, the less you look my way. The glass will not hold for long. These feathers were meant to stir in the wind, these wings to spread against the colors of the sky. I want to take you with me, but you cannot see me anymore. You see the feathers and the distance of the horizon. You see all the ways I can be taken away. But to you, it isn't real.

This is how you lost me. I didn't want to leave...and though I'm in this case, a part of me has already flown away.