Of course, I am trying to forget you.
And, naturally, bits and pieces of you are scattered about in all I think and experience.
I feel trapped.
Like I am reliving each moment I spent missing you when I was yours, and you were away, fighting demons and dragons to keep us both safe.
Except this time, you’re not calling me midnight, after you’ve won your battles, so you can hold me and show me how passion feels three times before the sun rises.
I can feel myself on the verge of tears, every once in awhile, when I remember just how your warm breath felt as you whispered into my ear,
“can’t you stay forever?”
And the look in those wide eyes had me convinced that your words were not mumbled without sincerity as you tried to chase tiredness away and enter the waking world.
The others, they can’t compare. Even when I close my eyes, and they are silent, and I lean my head against their chest, I can’t capture the feeling of being close to you.
They breathe to a different rhythm.
But I don’t have the energy tonight, to argue which of us is more human.
To try to determine whose needs outweigh the other’s, when we are by no means equipped to be impartial.
The hardest part of loving is knowing how much you hurt the one you love.
And the hardest part about being loved is believing others can disregard your imperfections.
At least for me.
I just want this to be easy.
I just want it to make sense.
How could you be so wrong for me, but feel so right?
And how can a passion strong as mine not be reciprocated?
Why can’t I pick up, carry on, never look back, because I know damn well I deserve better?
shouldn’t even matter, but it does.
If only I could believe what I know to be true:
I am not in love with you but the coolness that surrounds you.
The way you push me so far away only pulls me in.
Ocean tides, day after night.
But someday I’ll talk sense into myself.
And I’ll fall in love…
with the idea of someone else.