I take a deep breath as my eyes spot your silhouette across the the empty courtyard. My pulse races with the incoming anxiety and grief that floods my mind.
It wasn't supposed to end like that...
Once upon a time, we had been so close to a happily-ever-after. Too bad we never made it out of the fog that clouded our paths.
My thoughts are a jumbled mess of good memories and bad habits. I didn't like the constantly changing signals, but oh how I missed the way the warmth of your embrace against the frigid winter wind. I felt tormented when you denied me by placing distance between the crevices of our bruised lips. But then you would say my name, and the angels would whisper soft melodies in my heart. Mostly, I hated the way you only craved me when she rejected you; or worse, how you would claim me as your own when someone else made their interest known. Still, I almost shudder at the memory of your eyes across the console in the car before you kissed me senseless.
Thoughts like those should be sorted out or least processed in peace, but you don't want me to do any of that. You don't want me; you've made that abundantly clear, yet you won't leave me be to figure out a way to cope without you. Instead, you request to talk about things, again and again and again, but no amount of talking can undo the damage that's been done or make me heal faster.
We need space.
You need to figure out what you want, not just in love, but in life. I need a moment to breath air that doesn't smell like your aftershave. So what will it take for you to give me a minute? Better question- what will it take for you to put me out of misery by closing the chapter that was us?
YOU ARE READING
What I Once Called Love: The Drafts
PoetryThis is my story, or rather a compilation of stories that spans more than a decade. Each piece is written from a place of truth with the exception of the names mentioned. The book itself will broken into sections, with each representing a different...
