Hope

Hope. Hope, is what I saw nestled into the corners of your eyes, the night we first crossed paths. Little did I know, the thick lies that would come pouring out of those grey eyes, so I sat oblivious and admired. The first time I saw you my darling, you stood alone with your camera. Snapping shot after shot, at the school's football game, I studied your craft off the field. Consumed by your presence, and ever growing questions, I approached you. Bright eyes sweet talked me through the entire evening, and I soon found myself sat hand in hand, on the now deserted field. Friendship quickly sparked, and with each passing day, it became obvious that we both yearned for more.

Every free second we created for one another, was spent on the hard questions. Melting in each other's embrace, we discussed the meaning of life, and what we wished our place in it was. Upon your ceiling, I faced the entire galaxy. Literally, were the star and planet decals, glowing in the dark. What lay deeper, were sleepless nights spent in a warped reality. Leaning against your headboard, hearts in sync, I made you promise to never to let me run. Begging for you to keep me grounded, and not let myself make the mistake of leaving when all is good, yet again. The second something becomes unclear, I catapult myself into isolation. Letting all of my anxieties, course through my ever aching veins. What I wish to understand, is why locking eyes and lips, in that moment you promised to never let me lose; yet here we are months later, and I can't remember what your touch feels like.

Once you fell unexpectedly ill, the butterflies in my stomach became as heavy as burdening boulders. The stronger I pulled, the further you faded. A love so carnivorously bittersweet, that each touch is accompanied by the crashing of our well-beings, and the uprising of our complete dependence upon one another. So I sit outside, staring up at your stars, once again. My heavy head rests, against you; my arms clutching tightly to your headstone, grasping at what could have been.

I write this letter, one of which you will never see, because you rest beneath the earth. I write with clouded eyes, begging for your return. What I should have admitted, that night we first sat together, was my realization of you being my serendipity.  What I should have admitted, every night laid in your arms beneath stars, is how strong my addiction to you is. What I should have admitted, after every touch and every kiss, is how badly I wished this feeling would stay forever. Consumed in guilt, and in grief, I stand before you. Aching for another chance, to hold your hand and your heart so tight, it would be impossible to escape. At the peak of our downfall, I can confidently say, that hope is all that it ever was for us.