Ah, greetings, my dear moon flower fairy! It is a shame, but I have been feeling somewhat fatigued recently… But I have been tasked with more work than usual as of late, so I suppose such ailings are unavoidable. I will merely have to take a rest as soon as I am able, but for now, the sight of your wonderfully expressive face and the sound of your comfortingly familiar voice are far more soothing balms than even the greatest mortal doctor could prescribe. Other than my feelings of weariness, I am doing quite well, thank you for asking so considerately. And what about you, sweet lady of dewdrop-dazzled roses and starlight? How are you faring on this fine day?
MC: …how do you do that?!
Do what, O gossamer rose princess?
MC: That thing, with the fancy… you know what, never mind
She was honest from the start. Abrasive, with a broken heart, and overly open in her needs. “Be my boyfriend, please,” she asked me casually, with a laugh and eyes so empty.
Conversations were one-sided, short-sighted, always only about her, broken with awkward laughter, sometimes awkward singing. And to this day I’m still searching
for what I saw in it, why my dreams still revisit her memory and shadows, making her more than she was, unsuccessfully rose-tinting her sudden heartfelt parting.
first impressions aren’t always wrong,
and I wish I hadn’t been such a typical optimist wanting to see the good in every misunderstood boy sometimes there’s nothing to be found behind a mask made of narcissism and a spine built off humiliating others
but it’s so easy to be blinded by second chances
and it’s so easy to mistake relief for emptiness
She came in like a sudden shower while the sun was still out Gentle, humming words that dripped with the tragedy of romance The kind of water that soaked into my coat And left a familiar dampness on my neck all night
Before that rain, I hadn’t noticed her long gazes Nor pieced together the unexpected eye contact we’d often make
But once she had the chance, she held my hands reverently And whispered to me of dewdrops on rose petals Reminding me to set the speed. “I don’t want to scare you,” she sighed Yet she slowly eroded my defenses despite my silence
A growing discomfort rippled my rib cage each time she called out to me As if she was begging me to save her from an impending storm
I was experienced now, damaged but wiser, and knew when to say “Stop” She smiled softly, understanding and mature as older women are But the silence left in her wake suffocates me Like humid, cloudy days that refuse to cry
— I fall in love during the silence between ‘Goodbye’ and ‘I Never Liked You‘