“..’cause it’s too fragile and if you don’t feel the same way, I’m screwed.” I laughed.
“Those three words, are said too much, they’re not enough.” She sang.
“So…I do love you. See, not three words.” I confessed.
She just looked at me with the most stunning eyes on the face of the earth. Sun shining on her gorgeous face, turning her eyes from hazel to golden. That look of hers…just kills me.
“Babe, you look magestic. Maybe because I’m high or maybe because you actually are. Nahhh, you actually are. You’re magestic.” I said, stroking her soft hair.
“Best thing anyone’s ever called me, you know?” She blushed.
“Then they’re blind.” I replied.
Photo via flikr.com
You are the moment between daylight and darkness. You are the pauses in my sentence. You are the lump in my throat that makes it hard for me to speak. You are the ashes of cigarette, burned out of my brain. You are the kohl in my eyes, the fragrance of my flowers. You are the wind that untangles my hair, ever so gently. You are the secret of my 4 a.m smile. You are the twinkle in my eye, a kiss on the neck. You are a sensation. You are something I don’t have, yet I’m afraid to lose.
He sighed. Looked at me deep in the eye, making me feel nervous, and said, “I know what you’re going through. Trust me, I understand. But…”
“No, you don’t!” I interrupted. “Have you ever been so ashamed of yourself that you try to be someone else? And..and..while doing that, you forget yourself…”
After a long, uncomfortable silence, he said, “No..but you..”
“No. There you go! You don’t know what it’s like to be me. The whole world is in your feet but for people like me, it’s not like that. We have to fight to get what we want. Each second of our life is struggle. We all are in a constant battle. In a battle with enemies we’ve made up ourselves. But I am in a battle with the kind of enemy I can never defeat.” I said and took a deep breath.
“Whom?” He asked with a certain urgency.
“Myself.” I answered.
She was like that one bright star in the vast, empty, dark sky that alone made the sky worth watching. You just couldn’t compare any other stars to that one bright star. And now that she is gone, even when the moon appears, the sky looks empty and sad. The sky looks like it is aching to find that missing star it has just lost. The sky keeps on expanding to find that bright star and make it a part of itself again. The sky knows that nothing could fix it up ever again.
[[Dedicated to my grandmother who passed away two months ago.]]
I was tired.
Tired of walking on the narrow roads of your mind,
Of believing in metaphors and waiting for signs.
Tired of being shattered into a million pieces,
Of always being a subject to your thesis.
Tired of looking for the meaning of us,
Of you turning everything I do into a fuss.
Yeah, maybe I still loved you. But I guess..I was just tired.
One of the best things in life for me is discovering words for feelings you never knew existed. La Douleur Exquise is French for “the heart-wrenching pain of wanting someone you can’t have.”
All my life, I’ve been told different meanings of the word “Love” but I still don’t know what it means. Maybe it’s just different for everyone else. I can’t describe what it means for me. Maybe I don’t believe in it. I think I don’t have to rush, I’ll find it out someday. Although for now, I do have feelings for someone I have never met. To describe those feelings: I’m just really fond of that person and I absolutely love the way he thinks. Even though I can’t describe what love is for me just yet, I know this is not love. One more thing that I know is I’m never going to be with him. I’ve just wanted someone who wouldn’t care about how I look and he is one of those people and for the first time in my life I’m afraid. Afraid that I am not interesting enough. This will stay unrequited because he’s my type but I’m not his type. But it bothers me. And the fact that it bothers me, bothers me also.
The more I get to know you, the more I fall for you or your mind..
The beautiful words that you write, the amazing art that you make just show what a messed up mind you have and I love it. I love your mess. I love the way you do little things just to make others happy. I love how you know that you are the best version of yourself…
I don’t think I’ll ever be able to be your kind of girl, but one thing I know is, I have a crush on you. A crush on your mind.
[Picture stolen from Yaser Khan aka The Mad Typist.]