You think I don’t want to be over this? I do. I want to move on and stop whining and annoying everyone. I want to finally have closure and have my sanity back.
But there’s also this part of me I can’t manage to turn off. That part of me passionately believes we have this crazy, undeniable connection.
I used to be able to maintain the longing at a lower level, so that it was barely a hum in my every day noise, but he reawakened me. I remember how just his friendship lit me up, how high I could get off it. I can only imagine taking it to a deeper level would be magical. Something I would lose myself in, if I haven’t already.
At times what’s left of me takes a difficult breath, knowing what’s not there. I feel the loss of him and the future we could of had. I pathetically ache with the pain of it. I want it to be gone but I can’t let go of the ‘What If’.
What if he changes his mind, realizes the value of what we have, and I’m not there? Could I forgive myself for letting go?
The introverted part of me could be in a room full of people and still want to be alone, having that night’s solo adventure.
I go to parties, very much looking forward to seeing people and chatting with them, and yet I always manage to find myself alone in the quiet at some point during the night. Be it on the empty strip of beach, a lonely rooftop, or in an abandoned room, I find it.
I always thought that was the attention-seeking part of me, wanting someone to come find me. That’s part of it, but there’s also my inner introvert saying it needs a break and wants a moment of separation to enjoy the sky, the air, or some silence.
I miss you.
Not the person that annoyed, frustrated or hurt me, the one I’ve gotten used to, but the other one.
I miss the guy who used to share his smiles with me, and his warmth as we lied together, his arm around me and his breath on my neck. I miss the laughs we had, during adventures only we shared. I miss our conversations about our favourite tv shows and teams, things in common I only shared with you.
When I remember us, I don’t understand why you don’t want to be together anymore.
They were meant to be.
They had to be, didn’t they?
She kept seeing him again and again, in person and in her mind. But it was something more than that. Something intangible and indescribable. Words couldn’t do it justice. It was something you just had to feel. If you couldn’t feel it, you couldn’t understand it.
Try her best, she would call it a connection. A deep bond that was always there, even before their initial meeting. It would remain to be, whether over time it was ignored or cherished, watered or deprived. It was unbreakable. Time had proven that. There had been enough for both of them to change and grow into different people. They had spent years apart, with only random glimpses to survive on, and yet there was still that magnetic pull.
He lit her up like a Christmas tree grove, all strung up and beautiful, and from that, he basked in her glow. At times, it was faint. It was the soft haze of half-closed eyelids, limbs languid, and a Cheshire cat smile pointed at him. But truly she was the lighter than that. When she was around him, she was sunlight.
Why is it people say “till death do us part”? Why do we have lyrics saying, “I’ll love you till the sun burns out” and “one hundred and five is the number that comes to my head when I think of all the years I want to be with you”? These aren’t declarations of never-ending love. These are all finite amounts of time. Does that mean your partner won’t love you when you reach the golden gates, when time is up? The contract is over, all bets are off?
These type of commitments confuse me. They definitely don’t get my heart swooning.