Emotionless

The surgery that removed my attachment to you inevitably removed all of my emotion.

Beautiful fall afternoons will evoke a swelling feeling of completion, but lately, I cannot say that the spark of love in someone's eyes would do the same.

So, like a baby, I'll tug on my ear when it aches, secretly hoping someone will shove some sort of miracle drug down my involuntary throat.

Sure, I will cry and scream, but the familiar flickering of sensitivity will be welcome. I scorn those whose hearts are undeniably easy to ascertain, but maybe I actually long to be as easy to comprehend.

People revel in their complexity, but oftentimes, I find myself wishing that everything really was as it seemed. The thrill of the chase would be lost, but I've been sitting on the same dilapidated porch step for months now, refusing to take even two steps forward, so would it really be that different?

I'm surrounded by those vapid people who live for the clutch of alcohol, but perhaps my own vice is worse. Better to be drunk off emotions than sober with no feeling at all.