She was here with me, I was in her arms. She whispered into my ear, serenading words that only I would ever get to hear from her. She treated me well. I was her special, she was my diamond. My life. My world, my friend, my teacher, my heart, my moon, my mother.
"My sweet summer child, what do you know of fear?" She asks.
"Fear? It's scary."
I heard a soft giggle escape from her lips as she tucked a strand behind my ear, kissing my forehead, her lips felt like a feather. Ticklish, but soft.
"Well, you can say that too."
"Huh? So there's more to it?"
"Yes, my dear. There are many ways to explain it, to express such an emotion, a sentiment. One can say that fear can.. Come out of love?" She poked my nose with a smile on her face.
I could never read her well, I don't think I ever wanted to know what was hidden behind her enchanting cerulean eyes.
I regretted that thought.
"How can it come out of love?"
She kept that smile on her face, yet.. She seemed bitter to me. Bitter, yet sweet. Bittersweet?
"Say, dear, how would you feel if I were gone?"
I should've answered. I shouldn't have fallen asleep in her warm embrace. I shouldn't have let go of her hand. I should've stayed in her arms. She should've stayed in mine. She's gone. Now, I sleep alone. Eat alone, play alone, study alone, work alone, live alone. Without her, what can I do? Where did she go? To leave me, tucked in bed with no goodbye?
She taught me how to write, fed me by hand, put me to sleep in her arms, singing me lullabies with her gentle voice. She was a fluttering butterfly, was I a spider's web?
I complain, yet..
Why is it that I don't want to look for you?
Is it because you were never there? Because, it never happened? Because, you're not real?
