the first time you walked out of my life,
it felt like someone physically pulled the air out of my lungs and for a while i couldn't find the oxygen to breathe. there was a throbbing emptiness in the confines of my rib-cage where my heart should have been. and for months, i survived with a desperate pounding at the back of my head that could only scream your name in profanity and in vain.
but then you came back,
and it was like everything that happened, didn't. and i was alright again, welcoming you home with open arms.
but the signs are too familiar, simply inoubliable.
this time when you do leave (once again),
i will be prepared. i shall shed no tears over you, not a sob nor a silent scream. by the gods in the highest heavens, do i swear that my chest will remain intact, it will no longer heave and bend to your will - a boy who does not care for such trivial things; fleeting emotions of girls he has damaged irrevocably. i will be complete just as i was before you entered my life, my home, my heart. i am content.
this, i promise you.
