I lay awake at night, dreariness not tugging at my conscious like usual. I entertain myself with illusory stories, tales of love, illustrations of intimate bonds, letting that bright fantasy to soak into my skin. I try to find happiness in that fictitious tale, joy from the characters infatuation-filled hopes coming alive.
Yet all my thoughts revert back to you. It's not the two complex individuals that I'm seeing anymore, but instead you and me. I try to block those desperate ghosts away, lock them away in a cupboard that's never to be opened...
If only it were that simple,
but emotions demand to be felt. I'm tired of fending them off. So let me become an open book and confess my vulnerability, the very person you make me.
I can't deny that I crave it; your body cradled against mine as the moon awakens from its slumber. Our hands that molded together perfectly as we gleefully swung our arms through the air. The warm embrace you gave that turned my cheeks crimson. The sparkling feeling I'd get when our lips would come together. That casual shining grin that would send my heart doing somersaults. Those soft, lush locks of hair that I would relentlessly run my fingers through. Your bright sparkling eyes where I'd get lost, those globes that shone like stars on an eerie night. Those cheeks that would turn a rare rosey pink, only appearing once a moon.
I remember those simply strung letters that would fall out of your mouth, changing any dreariness to euphoria. Sweet nothings you whispered when my inner demons came to haunt me. Small comments that would send me beaming. Minor acts of kindness that my eyes would notice. Remember those rainy nights we would spend on your porch? Singing along to our favorite songs, we learned each other's music tastes. That's how I managed to make you a playlist, haha. I wonder at times if your sister misses us. Countless times we spent the dull evening drawing two animals into one. I remember that night I spent with you guys at Christmas, when you first introduced me to your mother. I was nervous at first, but we gradually started conversing. You glanced at me and for a moment you looked proud of yourself. Proud of us.
Yes, I admit it. I miss it all. I miss every action, every reaction, the excitement, intimacy and every moment in between. I can see the glint of pain in your eyes when I brush you off at school. I see the way that your clique glares at me when I walk past them in the halls. I'm trying my best to act like I don't care about us but in reality I want to run into your arms and never let go. This is the truth, laid out for you. No more frustration, just the vulnerable, fragile truth.
I never did stop loving you. Your love was like a drug and I wanna relapse.
