01.17.21
I talked about you — how it felt like the first time I met your stare on that rainy day. It was odd. It was cold. It was the beginning of my endless "hang-ups" and "what ifs". But I was your willing captive long before I knew it was a mistake.
I talked about you — how it felt the first time I saw your smile. It was genuine. It held so much more of what you could show. Then, I made no sound as I began to draw a portrait of it inside my head but never knew it'd become a faint memory, an old film, a faded photo, and a buried history.
I talked about you — how it felt the first time I heard the three words of forever. It was magical. It was fulfilling. It was overwhelming that I had to calm my pounding chest. I was beyond happy knowing that I got a place to turn to — your heart, your thoughts, your soul. I never knew it was fleeting.
I talked about you.
I talked about us — how it felt the first time crashing against each other. It was suffocating. It was tragic. It was lonely. It was empty. I wanted to let go but I couldn't. I wanted to hold on but it was so hard being with you. I could no longer feel you again. The look in your eyes, the purity in your soul, and the love inside your heart.
It was all gone.
It got blurred.
It was no longer there, and I could never be sadder than the thought of you drifting away from the grasp of my affection.
So I talked about myself — how it felt the first time I stepped forward. It was gloomy. It was all gray. It was like turning around and crawling back in your arms. It was filled with whys and regrets. Endless queries of why I was being left behind with all these fragments of what used to be us. It was like asking more of me when I already had nothing left but shattered pieces.
—georginariver
