*one unread message*
For a moment I’m special, and in that moment I feel as if I could fly, but time passes and so does your mind. It passes from me and my Instagram DMs, our two-sided banter, to a dead space that only I feel. I’m sure your mind has moved onto a new boy you make feel weightless with your free compliments. We’re now living in a city that were not sharing. Same air, same buildings, same over crowded transit system but our relationship is something that will never be the same. I’m not one to run back to someone who’s left me in the cold, you would’ve known that if you paid attention. The cold is comfortable now.
How intriguing to me it is that when someone takes a trip they forget what they left behind, a budding relationship. As with a flower bud a relationship requires sunlight, water to grow and love to flourish. Some will claim they don’t have a “green thumb” as if that’s excuse for letting something so beautiful die. Simply forgetting that something has to be living to die, they’ve actively committed murder to my soul. All that remains is a carcass that once housed someone who believed in your false reassurances.
I look back at you and our descent now remembering how I became so cold without any humanity left. In one instant my internal temperature began to fall, degree by degree, causing my organs to shiver and my muscles to freeze. Though most of me has thawed today I still walk around with a frozen heart; the remnants of a place that once was a home for happiness and warmth much like that of a frozen lake in winter. A place where love frolicked through a field of lavender but now hides from passing strangers, to afraid to be destroyed again.
Looking out the window now I watch the world pass by, people living their lives as if someone had never hurt them. Hurt isn’t a strong enough word. Every now and then a chill is sent through my spine reminding me I still have the capability to feel. The chill gives me hope of one day smiling again. I quickly turn away from the light pushing back against the hope retreating to the cold that has now become home. What would it be like to have a body that hosts an eternal summer rather than a constant dead treacherous snow storm?
How many hugs will it take to get to the center of this heart-shaped sucker? That is one secret I’ve yet to learn, also one secret I hope to learn. Hope can be a dangerous thing in the hands of someone with nothing to lose.