We ended the moment you decided to run away. Physically you are – the occasional booty call. Emotionally you’ve gone since the day you left. You lied and you cheated and you left me and my feelings on the backburner.
(He sees me, in that cheesy Avatar way of seeing people. He understands me and he knows what makes me tick. He caresses the small of my back. He nibbles the edges of my shoulders. He licks the back of my ears. He smells my hair and tells me when I change shampoo. He plays with my hair. He kisses me everywhere. He makes me smile in a dorky bashful way that is completely unlike me. He makes me fly.)
I wanted to be the one. The one that bucked the trend, the one that was more than an illusion, the one that was more than a booty call – the one you chose in the end. Everyday you find new and inexplicable ways to break my heart. I cup my shattered heart in my hands and go right back for seconds, thirds and mores. One day I will grow tired of your actions so I will stop going back for pain. I never gave up on you, even at your most difficult. I wanted to mend your pain and fix your hurt, so you could love fully once again, so you could love me the way I love you.
(He made me take that leapt of faith – to lose control above all else and feel love for all its emotion and passion. He lives on the edge of the world, straddling the light and the dark. He shows me new things everyday, shares new experiences everyday. He’s teaching me to grow new perspectives and showing me new insights. My curiosity consumes.)
I remember the story of you running down the corridor, throwing slippers over the parapet and it makes me laugh. I stifle a giggle. It makes the tears easier to bear. My heart’s beating out of my chest, I’m terrified.
