dead flowers are pretty in picture.

3. Letters and words

Dear River Thomas,

Am I not enough? Are my words worth nothing? Now my tears don't need a reason to fall down?

Do you know the tingles that you get when someone compliments you? I feel sick, sick to the stomach. I love them, I love how someone took the time out of their lives and admired something I created but it kills me. How long will it take for them to realise that I am an impostor? That I can't write the same masterpiece (which I loathed while creating it) twice? That I might not be able to replicate it? That it might be a stroke of luck?

They will leave concealed notes. Stuck between the pages I wrote. The scent of strawberry shake laced it; it was sealed with your lip gloss mark. I touched it, my lips traced what was yours, the swollen lips, chapped, forgotten in tears and play-pretend pity for my being. The conversations I had with you played over and over again in my head. I could've said better, I could've sounded smarter, I just would have not said it. I delete what I wanted to type to you because the myriads of personalities residing in me don't agree with each other. Don't get me wrong, each personality is my own. How can you shatter a glass bowl and then ask which piece is the one that rules? I create a personality for each friend I have. To accommodate their needs and desires. Them before me. Although I have many friends, I feel lonely. No one loves me, everyone loves the image I give them to see. I feel detached, I feel exhausted. How many personalities will it take for you to understand I am more complex than a body could vessel? That's why all of the realities I created want to escape this body.

Not before I read your note.

You have the prettiest handwriting. I hate it. Your handwriting is like the tendrils curling up on the fence to grow the grapevines in my backyard. It choked me. You weren't at fault, you never were. You wrote pretty words and pretty lies about how you like my words flowing down my hair like daisies. I was envious, I was jealous, I was happy. These emotions conflicted, and my mind was the battlefield. I was happy because it was expected from me, to be happy for you, to take pride in what you're good at. But forgive me, I was greener than the emeralds you compared my work with. I hated that you were better than me, no, I hated myself for not being up to the par. For being the dandelions in your vineyard. For not adorning your garden like you adorn mine. For not having skills worthy enough to fetch your friendship.

Yes, I am at fault, to let my competency be the driver of our camaraderie. I pick daisies at war; I cannot help it. I have been judged; I have met scrutinizing eyes in the name of friendship. I have been left under the ill light streetlight with pearls on my neck shining under it because I wasn't good enough. I feared being judged, judged by the ones I loved.

Sometimes, I do see my worth, I see them knitted tightly in the seams of words. I see them in the stains of Coca Cola on crushed velvet. I see them in my services to everyone, how I am there for all, but no one is there for me, except you, of course. Then this worth floating like mere ideas are snatched from my eyes when I see no one notices the small details that I do. No one appreciates like I do.

Why would my words hold any meaning, when the beholders can read yours?

Still, you never forgot to leave the token of love behind. I wondered, whether it was admiration for my creation or you're just sunshine in general?

If that's so, I don't think my words will be worth your time, you wouldn't have read it otherwise.

I need validation. From people I look up to. I won't shy away from that. Now, I can't make out you're a crony or a person who owns my admiration.

Till then, I'll push you. I'll push out of my ribbon tied heart, push you until I am reminded of you by the objects you touched. I'll push you away with my sickening thoughts that'll poison you too. Once you realise that the venom in me burns your dewy skin, you'll keep secrets. You'll make excuses. You'll ask me to take my own time but buy yourself some. You'll say things that'll hurt me, but lace them with frills and deep conversations I never had. You'll make me think of you every time I see a post on how to make out if a person is toxic or not (I'll still hope it's me rather than you). Till then I'll still paint you in my metaphors. I'll tell you about my favourite songs. I'll look up at the sky and call you orange and I will be pink and together we'll turn the sky purple. I'll splash turquoise paints on the canvas and sign your name on it. I'll be the friend you won't talk because I have too many to talk to, none to tell.

Once you're gone, now I realise that when I open the window, instead of sunlight, I am hugged by the cold scintillating wind. When you're gone, the lip gloss stain on your notes will turn brown. When you're gone, I will see your new friends asking you to taste the peppermint ice cream you hate. Then I'll realise how much I needed someone to love me.

Then I'll learn to accept someone's love. Then I'll learn that I deserve it. I will be willing to listen to how they love me, and I'll not listen only to say I love you back to them. I will listen because they mean it. I will not push them away, I will pull them back in under the blanket of comfort I once lacked, and I will learn to give in as much as I take, not more than that. I will imagine your face and steal kisses from them when they fall asleep. I will be next to them; they'll find me the first person they see in the morning and they'll smile. I will be willing to let it in and feel the same. Love takes practice and I learnt it from the notes you left.

You won't be the storm that unleashed the worst in me anymore, you will be the breeze that made me love, myself and you.

Till then, I'll try not to push you back.

Yours truly,

Illyria Soleil

~~~

Word Count: 1141

A/N

Meh, I don't know what I am writing. I wrote this keeping this really old irl friend of mine in my mind and it's been months since I met her. Man, she'll get all the references 😂.

Thank you for reading it! Here's a taco 🌮