The shadows follow you. Even when i was with you, I was being suffocated. You knew my feet are jumpy. You knew i sank on that floor, only because there was nowhere else to go. You never asked me what my biggest fear was. You never asked much anyways. You didnt have to. You always understood me. Better than anyone. Better than myself. Your only question was:
"where do you want to get your tattoo done?". I point on my ring finger on my left hand.
"ah", you said, "you want to get a swallow or a butterfly". Without a hint, without a word from me, you understood.
When i think of myself and i think of how to get from Point A of where i am now, to Point B: where i want to be as a person, the only thing that comes to my mind is freedom. I want to be free. Ive lived compressed for too long; my biggest fear- a glass box.
I had a dream some years ago.. imagine your first love. The type of love that you'd cross oceans for. The type of love that you'd bike 290 km just to be next to them for a day. You'd make the impossible possible. You'd follow them anywhere. In my dream i followed him to a mountain. He didnt know...at the end of the day, we all do secret loving acts for people we care for. We offer so much of ourselves in a little act but it all goes to waste.
We need to realise that often our secret acts are so secret, that perhaps the other person doesnt even end up receiving our offering. We are just stuck there, with a peace of ourselves gone, given away, taken for granted.
Misused, i stood on the mountain, watching him walk away with the wrong people. Wrong because they weren't me. She wasn't me. Yet, I, screaming and crying, was stuck in a thick, glass box- unseen, unheard, forgotten.
How much i wished i could fly away. How much i wished i could breathe.
I wanted to be free. Free from the box, free from the misery that put me inside it in the first place. I banged and banged on that glass, in a vain attempt to break it. I threw myself against the walls. I bled and broke my bones to run and tell him he was making a mistake but no one seemed to care. The wind was blowing, the sun was shining , butterflies were flying in the sky and he was happily walking away with them. The world was moving on and i was dying.
To be understood, not in the way a person understands A-level Statistics, but to be understood for what you are, for who you are.. That is a blessing of a lifetime. All these fears that we have, all these glass boxes that each of us dies in...
How heavenly it is to find someone that hears your screams and breaks his bones in an attempt to free you from the vessel you're stuck in. You freed me from many vessels. All these desperate nights of wanting to break the walls and vanish into thin air, you broke them for me. Yet, i somehow found myself in a glass box. Once again, I saw happiness with you. I could hear it laughing and teasing, but i couldnt touch it. It simply doesnt reach me.
How can i trust again? How do i know this isnt just another illusion of my imagination? I see you in places and people. You left an irreplaceable mark on me. Tattoos could never quite express this.
I know i rush and i know you wanted to give us time, but time is something i feel im running out of. Every day that passes, a day less of opportunities. Our lives are games of win and take. We're never sure which bet is safe. So blind and lifeless, we end up falling in love with losing. But for what cost? If you had told me it was worth it, i'd have placed all of my coins. Yet, here i am: stuck in a glass box. Writing.. hoping to be heard.
YOU ARE READING
Shadows
Horror"Now, you are nothing but a mere shadow of what you once were. You have become one with my inner demons. If you look me in the eyes perhaps you'll see them, and you might just see yourself. Hidden deep in the corners of my soul, bathing in fire."
