When She Fell In Love With Someone She Could Never Complete

Jenavieve
Jenavieve

She is a girl who fell in love with another. She is from here and the other, there. Miles and miles away, here and there, walking, talking, sleeping, away and then back together again. She used to keep her thoughts to herself, and yet to the other, all words flow and all her hidden and strangled thoughts unravel like the other had the single thread at the hem of her – with one pull, she slowly returns to singularities. She is from here, the east of the lands, where the buildings run high and streets are loud ‘til midnight. And the other is from there, the west of the lands, where the air is clean and the cars speed up til’ nine. The distance made her feel restless and calm and restless for most of the time; She took the other’s words flew, rode, and walked, every now and then, they exchange sheets and borrowed time from each other. She loves the other, and the other, well, kept it simple – doors open with her hands on the knob. She learned to hold the other’s hand and to succumb to smallness when she’s under the other’s covers. She memorized the other’s planes and curves and what makes her moan. She got lost in the thrill of discovering how the other laughs and cries, and smiles. She wanted to stay and live under the bend of the other’s neck and forever inhale the scent of last night’s. The other held her so tight, she could recognize the different patterns of the beats in their naked breasts – while hers was pounding and craving, the other’s was calm and receiving. But in the morning, the distance will turn this into a memory. And she, will dream of the other: forever wishing that the east was in the west, forever anticipating the bad, and the distance to take the good. She awaits the other – the pleasure of the other’s touch, and her safe place. Out there, in the collision of the poles, inside her mind, she witnessed the middle took meaning, took the other, and left her – unravelled incompletely and watched the other close the door, threw the lock, and stayed there in the west, where the east is a stranger, alienated and forgotten. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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