Thalassophobia

I cry out again

Christopher

Sitting on the warm sand this evening, I let a sigh escape my lips. The temperature was reaching 35 degrees Celsius even if the watch on my wrist was indicating half past five, the heat was suffocating today on the Australian isle, and I could only dream of being able to go swimming. But I couldn't because from the moment the waves brushed across my body I would start to panic, and only he could calm me.

His silhouette detached itself in the sunlight, blinding me way more than the star, he was my sunshine, the one who despite all the things I put him through, my giving-ups on our fight and tears, would bring me back up and help me again.

I loved him, since the very first day.

I knew I didn't deserve him, I never deserved anyone. So, with these dark thoughts, my tears fell down my cheeks, already reddened by my precedent cries

Once again, you would come to dry them, wouldn't you Minho? You would do it all the time, when these little drops of sadness would pass my eyelashes, you would rush to collect them on your fingertips, repeating that everything was going to be alright and I would succeed.

But tell me Minho, did you only have faith in my success? Or were you just telling me little white lies?

I'm scared Minho, scared that you'll give up on me, because I love you, but do you share even only a small part, of the feelings that make my heart flutter, and make the butterflies in my stomach fly?

"_I love you, Chris."

Once again, your sweet voice shattered my doubts, you had to read my mind, I couldn't think of any other reason, or maybe you were my soulmate and you knew exactly what I needed and when.

"_Me too Minho."

Don't leave me Minho. Seams to say those three words, those shared feelings that were sending all the desperate messages. I love you, I love you, I love you. Help me, help me, help me.

Dry my tears one last time.