This is probably my most personal and emotional work yet.
As I said before we all know the damage that loving someone a little too deeply can do. Especially when we are never given the chance of living that love, a chance for a happy ending.
I have to thank my beta reader, my friend, my writing soul mate Ana for all her work and support. My dear I wouldn't be able to do any of this without you.
This story is an one shot but can be read as a sequel to "Unspoken" if you want.
To all my swens I love you, you matter. Never forget.
All my love, Dani.
I can't stop staring at him and it's getting harder and harder to disguise it when we're all in the same room. However, I seem to be unable to avoid it and in my mind I keep making lists of all the reasons why he's perfect for you.
He's obviously kind and he treats you well – I can't decide between feeling grateful or simply hate him for that – he tries to make you laugh and in the moments he's successful I fall in love with you all over again even if the thought of him being the reason behind that beautiful smile still makes me sick to my stomach. He's clearly proud of having you by his side which only proves he's not a complete fool but looking at you now I can't imagine a world where someone would be anything less than proud of having you.
I watch you with him and you seem content, not happy at least not the kind of happiness I was expecting to find, but you seem at peace like there is nothing too urgent to do and that kills me more than anything else. Knowing you're peacefully in his arms while inside my head there's this turmoil I can't seem to settle no matter how many times I tell myself that you're my friend, that I have no right to feel this jealousy that seems to haunt me, that you can't know how I feel, that you don't need to know.
He smiles at me and a feeling of nausea takes over my entire body, if he knew all the dreams and plans that go through my head every time you come around he would rightfully hate me.
There are those moments when it's just you and me, those moments inside my car listening to music at four in the morning, no words to break the spell that seems to settle in every time you lay your head on my lap and close your eyes allowing me to play with your hair in silence while a rather depressing song plays in the background. I almost dare to say that in those moments you're happy, we both are but maybe it's just my wishful mind trying to give me something to hold on to. But then you tell me all your secrets, without fear in your voice like you would entrust your world to me in a heartbeat as I keep trusting you with mine and a calm invades me as if there is no other place waiting for me, no other stories to write but ours, no other eyes to search but yours, and I pity myself for the thousandth time.
I always hated those people who would constantly feel sorry for themselves as if their life belonged to someone else and they just couldn't be blamed for any of the wrongs around them. It's a bad habit, the one of blaming the universe for your own mistakes and yet I find myself increasingly often blaming the stars, the world and God – in whom I'm not even sure I believe – for a mistake that is exclusively my own, falling for you.
I often think back to the first time we went out together, I'm not sure you still recall it but the day was awful, way too cold to be outside and I had only slept four hours the previous night, we'd known each other for about a month and had just started talking, and I remember knowing ten minutes into our coffee date that I was meant to have a crush on you. You were this unstoppable storm, there was no way of slowing you down or ignore your presence. You talked fast and with a strange conviction present in every word like there was no place for doubts in your mind, later I would find out how wrong I was that day.
Robin loves you – or at least he thinks he does – I wonder if you love him back or if it's just the idea of him, because he's the safety I know you so desperately need, he's your chance at a happy ending without wars or heartache, how can someone resist that when we spend our whole lives in fear of having our hearts broken.
For me, however, you were exactly the opposite. You were never a chance for a happy ending, you were my choice for one, my bravest moment and my most painful one.
He takes your hand in his and I'm left wondering if they fit as perfectly as ours do – or maybe it's just another delusion of mine – you look at him for a few seconds, then your eyes turn ahead again and you smile at me but I look away and without looking at you I can feel your smile fading.
Maybe one day I'll feel you fading from my mind as well, like those lullabies moms sing to us when we're still too young to understand them but that never really disappear from our memories. Those old songs we can never recall the words to but could never forget the pulse of. And perhaps in the future I'll still be able to fall asleep with your rhythm in the back of my mind without crying to your lyrics.