A story of love

And then they smiled, all tension dropping from their ever serious face, the infamous sparkle bright in their eyes. The magic lasted but a second as the corners of their mouth drooped lower than they were before, shame and defeat darkening their eyes, all evil of the day rushing through their mind at once. Tears threatened to roll down their cheeks and they swallowed hard. They noticed me staring and gave me a shaky smile that didn’t reach their eyes, eyes that were silently begging me not to say a word. I obliged, hoping that one day these fleeting moments of their beauty would turn to hours, to days. If anything, they deserved the happiness they inspired in me. They were my flicker of light in a place of darkness and demons.

00:45

Tonight, though a little uncommon but not entirely unusual, I spent my evening online listening to music and doing whatever my short attention span could focus on. I would sometimes tear my eyes from the screen and look up at the stars, letting my thoughts run wild after having been reeled in for the majority of the day. As usual, I stumbled across negativity, but unlike most days I closed my tab and basked in my surprisingly good mood. Why shouldn’t I? After all, it’s a rare event.

It’s so much easier to take shit when you’re not already feeling like shit.

Today was a good day, not perfect but pretty damn awesome to my standards.

I probably won’t ever tell you, but I love you. Not romantically, not platonically, it’s something calm and beautiful instead, different entirely from anything I’ve felt before. You gave me something I didn’t know I needed, something that drowned out my inner loneliness and shed a light on what I’m worth.

Two actors meet

I feel like I don’t know the real you. I’ve heard of things you’ve done and things you hope to do, your lack of it rather. You’re hiding something. What makes me say that? It’s all too familiar. I know what’s like to put up an act so airtight, so desirable, that you convince yourself, lose yourself even. I might be wrong about this, but I feel like you’re running from something, like you’re afraid. I wouldn’t dare look at what I’m really like, always running from myself, hiding. So tell me, who are you? What do you really feel? What’s the cause of your fear? Why do you loathe who you are so much that only in fleeting moments when we’re alone or in late night texts I see you? That’s the person I’m falling for, though I have to admit your mask is pretty charming too. Let me in, be honest. Turn off the defense system, you can’t freak me out. There’s nothing you can do that will scare me off, hardly anything I haven’t been through or understand. I’ve been trying to show you me, I don’t do that with anyone. I know we weren’t exactly close before this, but I always knew you were different, different like me. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. You were never a threat, never a puzzle to understand, I inherently trust you. It frightens me and makes me feel safe.

But please tell me if you think I’m crossing a line or if you think I’m crazy. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings, I’d hate for you to do something you don’t want to just for me. There’s no need to lie about why you said no either. You don’t think we’d last till then do you? You think I won’t like you or that my feelings will pass. If I wanted a boyfriend or “some fun” as you like to call it, there are many easier ways to do it. Now, I did not choose my feelings for you, but I chose to act on them. I chose not to hide them in a dark corner of my mind until they’ve faded. I kissed back, I sought you out. I’m not being led by my feelings, I realise that you are worthy of them. I’ve had plenty cases where I was taken for granted, my feelings deemed irrelevant. But you, you care. You worry, you apologise, you initiate. I can call you any time of the day no matter the problem. You make me smile and you don’t feel as if it’s anything special. It is to me. You’re special to me and not in a special snowflake kinda way. You matter, and not just to me.

Rememory

All I am to you is a memory.

But you are so much more. You were the air I breathed, the words I spoke, my dreams, my reality and everything that kept me going. Now I’m running on fumes, can’t find my words, hardly sleep, out of touch with reality and struggle to keep moving.

But all I am to you is a memory, someone along your journey, someone that held your interest, who made you smile, who stood by your side when you needed me, who you abandoned to chase after what you valued more.

You were my everything and I was just someone.

I’d like to say I’ve recovered, that I’m alright now, but at times I still flinch and my mind still wanders to the times we shared together. One day your name will be an unfamiliar sound, our memories part of my journey, your words forgotten and my pain dissolved.

One day all you’ll be to me is a memory, just someone.

Not today.

How single hurts

I take the whole length of the couch and sleep in the middle of my bed just so I can fill this empty space, pretend it doesn’t exist.

I play my music and get lost in books or stories to surround myself with noise, as if the silence isn’t there.

I wrap myself in my blanket and spend an eternity in the shower for the illusion of someone’s warmth, which is absent.

I avert my eyes when couples pass and avoid the foods you’d eat together in order to keep up the illusion, that I’m not alone.

I sit on an empty bed surrounded by silence wrapped in a blanket, all alone….