Realer than real

4. Fake love.

I had a vision of us, finally meeting at some point. At the same point. I had a vision of us, sitting together next to each other on a rainy day. Under a shimmery roof of orange colored light pulbs. Of you holding my hand so tightly like Park held Ealonor's. Like seizing a butterfly. Remember? I had that vision and you saw it too. A vision of something real, realer than real. Remember that?
It was the first book that I gave you, I knew you'd love Eleanor and Park, I loved it too. I knew you'd find some of us there, I found it too.
I had a vision of you, years before you came into my life. I'd made you up inside my head, I'd dreamed of you and there you were. Maybe that's one of the reasons I couldn't let go of you no matter how hard I tried, cause I'd already waited for you for so long. 

The pieces of me had already chosen the pieces of you, they belonged together, they fused and loved. They felt home. It wasn't a sweet rosy home of dreams, I admit, very often it was dark, full of bitterness, of something rotten. Even the sweetest moments, always carried a scent of resentment, of anger, of guilt. We were two damaged people, seeking familiarity. A familiarity we dared call love. Because we didn't know any better, or at least, I didn't. Maybe It was a familiarity that led to love. But it was a forsaken bleak love, the kind that survived on its parties' souls, the kind that drained and consumed. The kind that should not be allowed to live.

I remember one of those long loving December days that we spent together, a caramel colored day full of honey soft words, sugary sweet promises of the future, when you suddenly asked me whether or not I believed in coincidences, whether I think our cross-path was a coincidence, I said yes, I told you how it was a total bid of luck that I mistakingly contacted you because I mistook you for someone else. How I didn't reply to your first text because obviously, I didn't know you. And how suddenly one day I decided to speak to you again and we hit it off instantly. I told you all of that.
But I didn't think back then that maybe all of this scheme of consequences could've actually been planned. I loved you way before I knew you, or at least I had a place for you. It was only an inevitable destiny.
You told me back then that you refuse to believe in coincidences. That our meeting was too great to be. Too unique. Too exotic. I think you had visions of me too, before I came along. That you loved me way before you met me. Those are still the warmest memories I carry, your words are still the sweetest I've ever heard, even if they were the knives that cut me to halves when it was time to go. Even if they were not at all true.

See, there's a reason why grey days are my favorite and my worst days too. I lived both worlds during those days, I visited the highest heavens of love during those days, I also sunk into the bits of heartbreak hell during those days. Sometimes, It felt like I couldn't catch up with your speed. It was as if you were walking in front of me, but you were in hurry,
you wouldn't even turn your head to check if I'm still there, as if I'm but a discarded thing, something that only exists in your prepheral vision. What do I do to make you see me?
I'm stuck in the middle, you wouldn't take me in but you also wouldn't let me go. And I can't let go. Not if you don't let go first. You knew that. You made it so it's like that. I felt trapped and I hated you for it. I wished I never knew you. With all my heart, I regretted each and every step that les to that moment.  But you wouldn't let go even when you saw how much I was hurting, how much I resented you. It was as if you were devouring me to thrive.

"If you don't let go then I won't be able to let go. I'm begging you. Just let me go, Seb. If any of what we had means anything to you at all, then let me go."

"I can't. I won't. If you want to leave then go. But don't wait for me to ask you to leave. I don't want You to leave. I love you."

"No you don't. Maybe you love the way I make you feel about yourself, but don't fool me and fool yourself by saying you love me. You don't. Don't love me. Say it!"

"Whatever you want to think, that's your choice Ney. But I will not say it"

"Good-bye, Sebastian."

Is there anything harder than begging the person you love to say they don't have feelings for you so you can free yourself of their pain? Is there anything worse then them pretending to love you when you know they don't. And then you believe them because that's what you wanted to hear? Is there anything worse then being fed the love that you wanted for so long but it's fake love? Is there anything worse than saying good-bye when you know you're coming back?

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