before the point of no return

I double down and run in a random other direction, just, not, not there.
yes, i mean both. rather curiously she asks, which other point of no return and coarsly laughs and I smirk at her because I am friends with this little naughty 15 year old inside my mind. always dirty. but now I sweep the floor clean and say that the other point of no return is tomorrow.
How can it be located in time if it is so general she asks and looks at me with huge black eyes. Well, I say, tomorrow might be MY point of no return. No return to softer days. No return. Not to this love. This is the test of the warrior. Alas, it is the test to let me into the training. For the longest time I won't be where I want to be. I ll have to work hard. But the first step is to be accepted.
So are you excited?
Excited. I am near exhaustion. Early this morning my hand was only three millimeters away from dialling your number. Standing in deep water, fight the current. Don't go there. Almost like a recovering addict who thinks that he is better now and can take just one other shot.
And there he goes again, crawling on the floor, begging for more.
I will not let this happen to you she says firmly. In the worst case I would lock you into my room.
Under my long hair I chuckle. Ah, youth! Naivite! Delicious, this!
And I still wonder what you are doing, and where this, for that matter. I STILL wonder every day whether you will be maybe standing in front of my fucking door. How pathetic. But I do. I am tired of all this. Like an overly fatty croissant with butter and honey, makes me wanna throw up, you know, just don't ...

So why exactly is this the point of no return?
Well, I say, it is that the moments before the point of no return you are the weakest and most vulnerable. This is when you want to go back. This is when you want to break the fasting, or the diet, or the vow, or the decision you made.
I have to somehow get through this day.


without calling you.

because your voice would break every little shield of faithful trust and love in the 'meant to be ways' into pieces. You would shatter my shelter. Because my shelter is not you anymore and I didn't have much time to build a new one from my own flesh.
I see people crossing my paths and my gaze and I stare and stare and stare until my eyes burn and a single tear sneaks behind my eyelids.
That's when I know I have to go.