You were made for me

I

~ 𝒜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓃𝒶 ~

There he was. Walking out of the café holding a cup of coffee in his hand, dressed in an all-black outfit. It always felt so calming just looking at him, watching him do day to day things. Always quiet and always alone.

I saw him on the first day that I moved here two years ago. I had stopped parked my car and stopped to get a coffee. As I was walking back to my car, I saw him in a book store. he was pulling out a book from the shelve, he looks beautiful.

I just stared at him, I may have looked like a creepy stalker, but I couldn't for the life of me look away. He pulled the book out and bent down, that was when I noticed a small boy standing there, he gave the book to the small boy and then he smiled. I could see that smiling was not something he did often, but God it was breath-taking.

That night as I was drinking a coffee out on my balcony, I saw him. he had his coat in his hand and the sleeves of his black buttoned up shirt was rolled up. when he walked under the street lights, I could see his knuckles were bleeding.

After that seeing him had become the highlight of my days. I could never muster up the courage to walk up to him and introduce myself or start up a conversation; but that never bothered me I was content with admiring him from afar. he was definitely better off without someone like me in his life.

Moving to Rome had been a long-time dream of mine. I always wanted to travel the world, feel all those things that couldn't be explained with words. It was truly sad to see that this beautiful earth was going to waste and being destroyed. Moving to Rome had been a surreal experience, it was exciting, a little scary but I wouldn't change a thing about it.

I had applied for a teaching position at a primary school, and the minute I got I packed up my things and moved to Rome. I managed to find a cosy little apartment on the second story, it wasnt big or fancy but it was my sanctuary.

Over the past two years I had managed to learn a few things about him. His name was Lucian, hes a very quiet person, barely talks to anyone and he's always alone; but everyone knew him. They knew his name, some knew his parents, the café knew how he liked his coffee, the small Italian restaurant that had been there for 100 years knew his order, and yet it was like he was a mystery. No one knew where he worked, if he had friends or even what happened to his parents.

So, all I knew about him from two years of watching from afar was that he liked his coffee black with two sugars, and his favourite pasta was gnocchi. He was a complete mystery to me and I couldn't help but be intrigued.

Sometimes I wish I wasn't so broken, maybe then I would have had the guts to go up to him. I knew I didn't deserve to be happy, all I've known throughout my life was punishments and consequences. There were happy moments but the darkness outweighed the light, maybe if things at home were different, I would have grown up differently; maybe then I wouldn't be so fucked up. like Richard Kadrey wrote, "when youre born in a burning house, you think the whole world is on fire. But it's not."

The house that grew up in wasn't just burning, there were shards of glass everywhere, voices screaming, words of hatred and rage thrown around and there were tears and loneliness. I was numb to it, all of it. I had gotten used to the burning house; I had become an expert at maneuvering through the house, but no matter how carful I was I would still get burnt.

Even though I left that burning house two years ago, I can still feel the tips of its flames teasing me, trying to burn me again; and sometimes it succeeded. sometimes when I feel myself getting happy and feeling peaceful, this feeling would plague me, a voice in my head telling me that I don't deserve this, that I was selfish for leaving and then I would allow myself to get burned. I would walk to those flames and sit there, sometimes the familiarity of the pain was oddly comforting.

I stay away from everyone especially him; I keep everyone at an arms length distant. I cant burn him; I would never forgive myself if I ruined his peace. No had ever known the chaos that lived in my mind and I was going to keep it that way. It was better to nurse my demons alone than to let someone help and get hurt in the process.

I would just burn alone.