Keeping me hostage.

I stumble out of my slumber unexpectedly, almost abruptly and realize what I'd been dreaming of, again. You. In one of the million settings that my subconscious loves to create. Though this one apple didn't fall too far from the tree. A random party with countless acquaintances and you just happen to be there, which in reality will never happen for our paths will never cross again unless we want them to, but well, my dreams have other plans.

They lead me to you, over and over again. Do they not take a hint from my active attempts at trying to distance myself from your very existence? Apparently not. So I'm there and so are you and this one mutual friend who kind of likes me. And then just for kicks you ensure that you have me, probably just for the night, to prove a point - mark your territory perhaps. I try feebly to resist that charm, spark and connection that exists between us, but you never did take no for an answer. When sheer charm isn't enough, your force isn't something alien either and I almost surrender willingly. Because you're there, and you want me. Even if that means destroying something good with someone else, I can't bring myself to care. Warning signs and red lights spring up in my head all at once, but what power do they have against your lips? Against our history? Against my masochistic faith in the fact that we fall apart only to come together again.

*

There are stories to be written, many of them. And I'd rather that you didn't feature in all of them. It's exhausting. You walk in and assume the lead role and no matter how hard I try henceforth, no other person or character seems important once you're in the frame. Once you're in, it's like I'm blind to the very storyline - I don't care for the end or the bigger picture - I just have eyes for you. And that inevitably destroys all these stories making them mundane and repetitive, and oh so monotonous.

The little girl falls for the bad guy and the rest has been dissected over in a million ways by many script writers. It's not unknown territory. There's a lack of imagination. But what if that's the only story I'm capable of writing? Ours? What if all my stories will forever have you or a hint of you in them? That's a tragic thought as a writer, though I'm not sure if I should even call myself one anymore.

*

Then there's that smile. I almost forgot about your smile. When that flashes in my memory, how could I even complain? It makes up for my sleepless nights and pretty much everything that you've put me through. That one smile and I'm done for. I'm coming clean here, you own me baby. It's not even a question - it's just a fact - one you use to your benefit always and the one that makes me lose all respect for me but it is what it is. But you really need to set me free.

I want to fly. There's so much I still need to see. So many words and thoughts that you just have been cluttering up. I'm yours. I always will be yours in a way I will never be anyone else's for I won't even try. So once you know this, you can loosen that grip darling. Let me live up to my potential atleast. You may go down in my stories as a lot of things, a bitter disappointment might even be one of them but you can't be the reason that I was destroyed. So here's your little girl, asking you to please just fade away. Into the unknown. I can't be your hostage any longer. I need to break out of this prison that you've built for me.