Explosions

1

It always seems that you're blinded from heartbreak but not from love. You know when you're falling in love, you see it coming everyday but, although you may be a stranger to heartbreak or rather familiar–you never see heartbreak coming for you. It's the demon that hovers over you at night while you're having the best dreams, it lurks around the corner like the shady man by the liquor store you go to every Friday evening. It waits for you to be at your absolute peak in life to attack you from every direction, not allowing any mercy and there always seems to be no safe haven. Heartbreak steals your ability to make explosions in the middle of the night, it dims every light in your life and leaves you in a darkness you desperately want to crawl out of.

There was a time I had the ability to make explosions in someone else's life, I was the fireworks that littered the sky during the Fourth of July. I was the New Years kiss when the ball dropped. I was the thrill you got when entering private property knowing damn well there were cameras everywhere. I was once those things–and more–for someone who suddenly decided I wasn't enough.

I became the remnants of fireworks littered on the ground, the lonesome friend sat on the couch sipping wine while everyone hugged and kissed when the ball dropped. I became the property owners who called the authorities. And I've been that ever since.