I reek of desperation. You reek of distance and somewhere, in-between running after you and running away from you, I lost myself.
There’s such simplicity in loving someone who left you in the first place; it’s familiar, it’s easy, it’s the only thing you know. But loving someone who loves you back, oh, that’s just messed up. It’s vulnerable, it’s an unknown drift that more often than not comes with the possibility of disappointment. Why would you bare your soul naked in front of someone and let them accept you, when you can indulge in the fluent feeling of loneliness embracing you on the inside?
It’s exhausting, you know. I say this with utter conviction that there isn’t one for me that can share the weight of my shoulders, understand the wounds that mark my body and my soul, acknowledge the complexities of my world.
And yet, there I go loving you like you’re supposed to belong with me, knowing that you’re already hers.
You are miles, cities, continents away from me and yet the distance between our hearts seems longer than our bodies. We’re hollow inside, trying to define meaning to our relationship while the flame’s run out. It’s almost juvenile for me to realize this now, after two years of holding on that we’ve been over for a while, and I’m still hoping that we haven’t had our last time. That we haven’t had our last call, our last laugh, our last drive together and our last kiss.
As a writer, it’s almost as if my duty is to hold back dialogue and ink the words instead. But with you, I lived my words, I felt my words and I finally understood what every great poet was talking about. With you all the poetry, all the literature made sense; and for that I’m grateful. I guess love does that to you, it either ignites your passions or subsides your desires; and with your loss, I’m more inspired than ever, just like I’m lonelier than ever too.
I’m chasing a figment of our love that exists only in my heart and you; you’re chasing her.
She’s beauty, she’s distinctive, she’s grace, she’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of, she’s everything I’m afraid of, she’s not me. It breaks my heart every time I envision your lives together, every time I leave you two to finish what you started, at my expense. Every time I see you live my dream with her, it hurts, it hurts so fucking much.
But we’re poles apart you and me, pulling away from each other second by second. You once made me believe that opposites could be on the same page; but that’s the thing about you and me.
We’re always on the same page, but looking at different perspectives; you searching for your epic beginnings and me, I’m looking for a happy ending.
And just like that, we cross paths, every once in a while, you say “Hello” and I say “Goodbye.”