02.27.22
I guess I still have to find out the reason behind those months of silence and the sudden noise in between the cracks of my heart every time you pay your visits to the place where I left you stranded.
Because every attempt I made to mute my subconscious is still you coming back with hopes in your eyes, and I'd often fall into the hands of reticence, afraid that I might stumble and bend my own rules for a man whose name had been denied in my memory.
Many times I encumbered myself with shallow excuses why I shouldn't let you in and yet the number of days where you made me feel that I am someone worth coming back for somehow left me wondering why I can never be ready for someone ready for me.
But I found no answers other than the truth that I built my walls, especially too high for you because of my idea of how a man should be. The way I want to see you will never be the way you are and that alone made me step backwards more than I do forwards.
The more you find your way back to me, the less I allowed myself to dwell upon the idea that we could be us. Because among these threads of 'maybes' inside my chest, yours never stood a single chance. I have us caged inside a box of 'never was' and 'never will'.
And yet in my sleepless nights, I find myself thinking that love is something beyond what eyes can see, and that, my love, created storms in me.
—georginariver
