One look, and it was all over. My world shattered in two. My stability and sanity slipping away. That single glance meant everything- a fleeting moment that would linger in my memory for a long time. But this look, this gaze of attraction, can only be mourned. My hands were cold as ice, and yours burned like fire. The fire could warm the cold hands. Those cold hands could calm down the warmth of the burning hands. Those hands desired to meet each other. They would have been a perfect completion. But they couldn't be found together. It was just impossible and imaginable. In this sad reality, my hands had to remain cold, and yours had to continue burning. This rare connection, this imagined completion, was a poisonous gift. Those hands had found their other half. They were unwittingly attracted to each other. They seemed perfect together. But they couldn't truly touch, for if they did, they would shatter each other's worlds, each other's stability. They would harm the others. A fire can melt ice, leaving behind only plain water. But this water wouldn't be warm—it would be cold, morbid, dripping lifelessly. On the other hand, a glacier could soothe the burning fire. But a glacier burns, too. It carries, as a fire, the same power of burning, of hurting someone's hand. Instead of calming the flames as expected, it would only fuel them - making the fire's destruction totally out of hand. So no, our hands were not the perfect completion after all. Both were burning in their own way, and their meeting would annihilate everything.
Ps: There is a little reference to Dostoevsky's short story White Nights
YOU ARE READING
To all the boys I have loved before
RomanceLove is ephemeral yet so powerful. It consumes all my mind. Therefore, I write about it - even though words are rarely enough to describe such feelings.
