And then the lights fade out and I’m alone on the stage, your voice echoing around me in the deafening silence. I sink to the floor, helpless inside the words that used to comfort me so much, but the chorus of you spins in the blackness and I remember that I wasn’t good enough for you, I wasn’t good, I wasn’t I wasn’t.
And you aren’t even here but oh god, you’re digging a green and gold knife into my chest every time you look at me with those eyes of yours.
I’m a mess right now // excerpts of stories I will never write •
so he’s gone and you’re trying to let this go with him but it just won’t leave and you just can’t forget. this is an ache like lazarus; it is alive when it shouldn’t be, it is back and bigger than ever. it hurts that the memories are so soft and at the same time so goddamn wrecking ball. he was never as gentle as you remember. this was never as perfect as your naive high school eyes saw it. it’s hard to let go when the hurt is a leech and you are always bleeding. it’s hard to breathe easy when your head is always underwater.
We had a silent connection, unnoticed by most. We seemed oblivious to each other, but the magnetic pull between us existed. What perfect strangers we make now. We pulled the magnets far enough apart to barely feel their tug.