24.10.22
I wanna text you so bad.
I don't know if it's the pain in my stomach or the pounding in my head urging me to do it. I'm trying to remember the respect you had for a one night stand, rather than me. I wanted your respect. I realise now I had none of it. I can't quite figure out what senses you had, with me anyway. What senses you thought were good for us.
When you rang for your hoodie, I screamed. I cried in agony. I agonised the fact you thought you still empowered me, still controlled my train of thought. I was angered by the fact you knew you still meant something to me, something none of this silly world could see, the side you were so good at hiding.
I feel like death. My chest feels like a cereal box. I don't wanna know what we are. I don't wanna leave, but I really don't wanna stay. You make my life so difficult. My health is struggling right now and all I can think about is how to be better. I want you to hold me. I want you to trail your hands down my back, through my neck tying your fingers through my hair. I want your legs laced in between me. I want your lips clasped around mine.
Or do I
Do I want that from you?
Because as far as I'm aware, you were another trying to get between my legs, implant within me. I wasn't your love, what you wanted, I was what you needed. You knew this. You broke without me, I watched you break, I watched you dissolve and shatter before me.
Your soul was so collapsed in mine.
I miss you
I miss you a little bit , a lot and not at all.
I miss you so much. I wanted you to become strong enough. I wanted you to become dependent enough without me. I wanted things you couldn't give.
I've changed my mind.
I don't miss you
I miss the thought of you.
I miss the comfort of you
I miss lying in bed
I miss our sex
I don't miss who I was with you
I don't miss the feeling of wanting more
I don't miss your fashion or the emptiness I felt when you told me you loved me
I don't miss you trying to control who I could speak to
I don't miss your insecurities
I have hope
for a better me
and a better you
apart.
But my heart hurts
literally
so do my lungs and my stomach
my head hurts too
I'm constantly shaking
weak
I'm not right
my body isn't strong
I booked a blood test
I'm petrified but I've pulled more flesh off my lips and rinsed more pain from my head than an injection could ever.
I told him to meet me where he used to park his bike as I snuck him in. Five minutes before I begged my sister to let him climb through her window. Ten minutes before our bodies collided and we passionately made out. Fifteen before we counted the minutes we could last without fucking. Twenty minutes before we fucked. Thirty minutes before our hands intertwined with the shampoo bottle and the shower door. Forty minutes before we fucked again. Fifty minutes before we were hung over each other's eyes of messy blue. 60 before my body sunk into his, becoming heavier by the seconds, my breath deeper whistling to the sounds of the movie I promised I'd stay up to.
Walking down to him. I tried hard to memorise the words I would say to him. I tried not to smile. I tried not to show my small amount of joy seeing his face. I asked him why. Why my phone clouded from his notifications, his calls, immature texts. Why his eyes reeked of weed, why his name had become so popularly poor. Part of me knew the answer, I just wanted to hear it. "Because I love you"
I watched his eyes shift from my lips to the rest of my features, not admiring them as much as he used to.
He spoke to me in a different tone, the way he had when we first met. I looked at him, reminding him who he was speaking to you. "Come on Owen, it's me."
A slight smirk creased his skin. I noticed the facial hair he'd let grow out, the facial hair I hadn't let him grow out. I didn't notice much else, I didn't recognise much else. To me, he didn't seem the same flavour as he used to be, the same energy. How could he? I'd hurt him.
I guess we are equal now I said. He agreed. I pleaded for him to delete my contact, it didn't take much. Truly, I believe he knew it was what I wanted, what we both needed. He had always been good at giving me what I wanted.
I was about to walk away, he whistled from behind me...of course he did. I was wearing leggings so I didn't need to think twice to know what he was doing. Scanning me gently this time, he smiled. He was already metres from my distance, it's as if we'd tried so hard to get as far away as possible to make the distance back longer. I watched him as his middle finger ascended towards his face, instead followed his hand, throwing a kiss from his into the air. I just stood there. I didn't shift a limb, I just couldn't detach my eyes from his, watching him walk backwards. Imagining this being the last time we watch each other. The last time we love each other with just our eyes. He stops walking. And hesitates to walk any further away. He knows how I feel.
I felt paralysed, my joints grounded through the earths core. The street was so silent. Not one car. Not one person. We were so alone, just how we liked it. I felt adrenaline race from my head to my feet. I ran. Across the lights, across the road. Pinning my legs around his torso, wrapping my arms around his neck. He curled his arms around my waist, shifting his one hand up to my neck cradling my head into his. He squeezed but not as hard as me. My arms clenched his neck, you have no idea how much I didn't want to let go.
Try not to die Owen
I'll try my best Olivia
My eyes were wet, my glasses had steamed a little. He loosened his grip a little just to remind me of what I met him for. I slid down his body until my feet gripped the ground once again..
I'll always love you. You know you'll always be mine
I wanted to fight, I wanted an excuse to try one last time...I couldn't find one. So I just looked away.
I did look back, but he was already walking. I knew if I hadn't had left at that sane moment, I wouldn't have.
It hurt, but it didn't kill me. I knew it was right. Something that felt so painfully right. He felt so good, so wrongfully pleasurable. He was an unhealthy habit of mine. A drug. His lifestyle was an undeniable tragedy against mine. Fun, so fucking fun. So utterly erotic and indescribably passionate. But as much as I talk in past tense, I still can't tell you he is an ex of mine, an addiction I no longer carry.
I still think of him.
I still search for his gaze
And be silent for his voice
Rinsing him from my memory isn't something I want to do nor something I can do.
I wouldn't want that.
he's still my biggest what if
Just in an entirely different universe
in an entirely different time
I like to think we still share the same moon
the same season
as the world becomes cold
so do we
but even ice melts sometimes
and even though we didn't end up
our story is still the best one I know.
He was a drug dealer...
just forgot to mention the fact he was dealing to me.
