I Used To Be A Good (Enough) Person

I never learned
that the rules have changed
in the past couple years.
I guess that's what my life will always be -
this infinite naive
or hope
or belief that things can be better
than they are.
Or that they will be.
Or that I can make them better.
All in due time
I can make all the mountains move
and all the plants grow
and all the deserts paradise.

She's callous.
She's resentful.
She's confused.

Construction cones and barrels
are standing static.
The shovels are silent today.
I am silent every day.

She doesn't know.
She doesn't care.
She says, "It's just easier this way."
And she's talking to him
and since that's begun
the "I miss yous" have ceased
and the phone calls have gotten shorter
and so has her temper
and there isn't that same sparkle
in her voice
that was there
not so long ago.
I hold none of it against her.
She's not at fault
and has done nothing wrong.
It just sucks.
I just wish I could make her see
what I see.
What we used to see.
I wish I knew how to show her.
What can I do
from a million miles away?

She needs to know
that she really is
the only thing
I care about.
More than the rest of this.
That while I've gotten good at what I do now,
everything else I used to do
has since suffered
and withered for years
and I want nothing more
than to get it all back
and that inside myself
I hate myself with a passion
because I can't do
what I need to do
and how badly I want to do it.

I'm not so blind
that I think things will be just like old.
I don't expect that.
I don't want that.

And in the back of my mind
all of these voices keep saying
everything I never want to hear.
Everything I never want to believe.
And it scares the shit out of me.
And she just yells
and I cringe every time I mess up
before she even calls me out on it
and try to learn from it
and there's so much pressure now
to be good and right and perfect
because I'm fighting with feelings
for someone who isn't me
and because if I'm not
then there is no point to me.

And I keep telling myself
that in only a couple months
I'll be back home.
And then things can improve
and we can be happy
together
and all I can imagine
is all those mile markers
calling out my name and saying,
"It'll be okay."

But if she just sticks it out until
those winter months
I will make those mountains move
and all those fires grow
and all those stories true
and all those promises fact.

But she still smiles
and
once
in a great while
she still talks about
moving in.