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ᴀɴɪᴀꜱ ᴄᴀꜱᴛᴇʟʟᴀɴᴏꜱ
"ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ, ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ"
ʚɞ
"ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱ ᶜᵃʳᵉ, ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʸᵒᵘ?"
ʚɞ
"ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃ ʲᵒᵏᵉ, ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃⁿᵈˡᵉ ⁱᵗ?"
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ʏ/ɴ ʟ/ɴ
"ʰᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵈᵃᵗᵉ?"
ʚɞ
"ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵃᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃʳᵈˡʸ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵐᵉ..."
ʚɞ
"ⁱ ᵐⁱˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ..."
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lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıılıı.lllııılı.
You gave me one of your smiles, the ones you would always show me to get out of stuff. With your cutely crooked teeth, small dimples and slitted eyes as they peered down to me.
"Don't worry, it'll just be for a few hours" you'd say. What you'd always say, a simple excuse to get out of our little talks.
You'd reassure me, as if to make up for something else I wasn't aware of. I'd see how you held her hand, the hand of one of your supposed friends and shined her with the smile that you'd show me when we went on dates. I'd see the glimmer in your eyes as you looked at her, not me. I'd see how her hand always snaked to one of yours and how yours would sometimes find itself on her waist. You had told me before your ideal type, and although I didn't exactly fit it, you'd tell me it was okay. You loved me for me, not by a standard of height, or hair colour. But I look back on that conversation and find myself staring at the girl. Was she what you truly wanted? The girl of your dreams?
It pained me to think about it, so I wouldn't dwell on it for too long, but my mind would always wander back to it. Doubtful and unwanted thoughts would cloud my brain and drive me to madness.
When was the last time we went on a date?
When was the last time you complimented me?
When was the last time you told me you loved me?
These lasts were becoming an all too occurring thing and it became something I loathed. As if to hold on to the remnants of our past, the things we used to do. I wanted those moments back. I wanted the laughter, the joy, and maybe even the tears back. I wanted to feel like I was yours and you were mine again. I wanted to hold your hand, wanted to walk in the park with you, play tag in the playground then maybe get scolded by the passing elderly, saying we were "too old" to be there. I wanted our time back.
To think you'd drift away from me so much.
Trying everything in my power to stop it, to slow it at least.
But my own efforts simply weren't enough. That dreaded feeling that I felt only continued to grow. The gnawing feeling in my stomach would grow and grow until I'd throw up.
Please. Please. Please. Please tell me it was all a dream. Something from my nightmare, the worst of my imagination; that you still loved me, just didn't know how to express your feelings. Please, let me wake up from this nightmare.
Let me hear those words come from your mouth one more time.
