After a couple years, most people would lose faith.
There’s a gray area between love and delusion.
At the start there is paradise. And the end there is mourning.
What was lost? What is missing?
Who told you once that there are parts of you never found?
You did. Only you did.
At night you search for them. In the daylight, you walk every winding street only to end up more confused than when you started. You’re searching outside. Out there. In the world.
Some days it feels as if someone vacuumed your insides out to make room for all the emotions, for all the new experiences you’re meant to have.
But you’re afraid to take the leap. It’s easier, safer here in your head. With inaction, you’ll never fail. You’ll never fly.
You know you’re stuck on repeat. The song has gotten old, but you keep listening. Life moves by you. Days pass. Nights fade.
Years have passed. It’s still there.
It’s never gone away. He’s never gone away.
You yearn to be seen and heard like once before. It’s a normal human need you’ve deprived yourself of for so long. And there are people there trying. They’ve lined up in front of you, trying to make you see how beautiful, how wonderful, how special you are. But you can’t hear them.
It all goes back to middle school. When you took a chance and got laughed at, made fun of.
You sobbed in your room after school, vowing to never write another love letter again. You didn’t know it then, but you sealed your fate. A closed heart can only live with a mask. It’s fake.
But there will come a day. You’ll wake up and the sun’s shadows will appear brighter. The sky will seem blue-er somehow.
This is the day you will realize they never broke you. You allowed yourself to remain broken.
And now, you won’t.
Most humans would give up, but you’re not human. You’re made of something stronger, more resilient, more shining.
You can’t give up. It’s not in your nature.