I Loved You Too Dangerously

Kristina Flour
Kristina Flour

The door slammed behind me, consequently waking up everyone within the house, and probably the neighbours, too. The quiet halls felt suffocating as I made my way to my room at the end of the hall. The dark room lit at the flick of my frigid fingers, just as I hold back the first of a stream of tears which later stain my face.

I love in ways I can not explain. In ways which are not always accepted and understood. I love by pushing limits, by loving fiercely, and loving recklessly. I don’t think, I do, and when I do, I later wish I had thought. But I don’t, because I am too busy loving.

Like I loved you; shivering in an abandoned park on a Monday night, with a spliff and a warm blanket. I loved you with every inch of my being, though platonically as it stood, my heart broke at your departure. I dreamed you into my future, as a friend I could always call best. The memories we created, to be listened to when we were in the future we spoke of, to be remembered when the memories fade from our conscience.

I relied on you like the infrastructure within a building, yet I tested its limits through demolition. I pushed at our weaknesses, tried to take control of the situation, only setting the blaze more alight, as I stood back watching you trying to fan away the flame devouring a skyscraper.

I loved you like someone I could call in the middle of the night when I couldn’t make friends with my reflection. Someone I could replace the monster in the mirror with. Someone who would listen.

I found comfort in you, comfort I should have been more careful but to rest in. I got lost in the comfort as I did not take the time to make sure you had not gone numb and distressed in your place.

I loved you and I lost you, because I loved you so dearly that I was terrified of losing you. I loved you so deeply that I didn’t even realize what I was doing.

I do not expect you to forgive me, as I have pushed for far too long. I do not expect anything but for you to see that I see what I have done. I see how I have hurt you. I see how I took advantage of you. I see how I defied your trust and your love. I see you. I see you through and through. I see how I have hurt you, and I see how I can never fix that.

I loved you so dangerously that I didn’t even realize when I had pushed too far. And for that, I am sorry. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

19-year-old writer, model, and actress from Toronto, Canada.

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