Some days, I contemplate throwing myself off the cliff, just so I can stop shouting and stop hearing you shout back. All I want is to make it across, but you obviously don’t want that or you would have helped that happen by now. Sometimes I just want to throw myself off and feel the wind, and sometimes I want to throw myself off because maybe that will finally get a reaction out of you. But no. For some vague, unexplainable reason, I come back out to the cliff every day, look at you from across the chasm, and we nod our heads, and the process starts all over again. It never moves, it never gets closer, and neither one of us ever makes it across. We just keep shouting. I have to wonder when our voices will go hoarse.
Every day, we stand at different ends of a really huge chasm, and we shout at each other. Eventually you get frustrated and storm off, and after awhile I start crying. It’s not like I can leap the chasm and go catch you, and keep you from leaving. I just have to sit there and see if you ever come back. Sometimes you sit there, just out of earshot, and watch me pleading. I get as close to the chasm as I possibly can, trying to get you to pay attention to what I’m saying. But you sit there with a blank face like you’re not registering anything. I know you’re hearing everything I say, you’re just acting like you don’t. And that frustrates me so much. Because all I want is for you to listen to me, but you won’t even do that. You just sit there, staring at me blankly.