Sunshine.

Everyone is grateful to have known him, but I feel differently. I get jealous of every drop he shares with someone else, every beam that touches another person’s skin. My mother calls this type of love lust, something she never had for my father, but I know the difference. I have seen women from all across the world marry men they don’t love. They do not know the privileges they had, if they did they would’t exploit them with lies such as lifetimes spent together for no certain reason. But I feel differently. I see him and my heart melts deep into my stomach. I get feelings similar to those of sailors losing sight of shore. Now, you can tell me these feelings are those of a child and I should find a man to provide, but you can’t tell me you’ve ever met someone that makes you feel the same way. As if stone walls are mere suggestions of borders and the words of strangers don’t hold any honesty. These feelings aren’t seasons or years or decades. These are of some other place, where things can last forever and feelings such as these have grown resistant to the constant deaths they face here. My lips quiver and my hands shake but my voice comes out strong and in abundance. The sky turns shades of indigo and the pale flowers wither against the breezes. Everything must change they said but I quickly replied, not this.

Wanting to be alone, but still lonely

- my dad