Erika here. I'm warning you- this is undone. It's spur of the moment. Oh, well.
P.S. Since my social life outside is put on hold, I'm going to detail my encounter with centipedes. They were all over the stairs to the pagoda or something...I think I'm going to have nightmares about those creepy crawlies sauntering over my face. ~Goosebumps. I think I'm going to have a raspy voice from screaming.
P.P.S. Sorry for the uncalled-for commercial. Here it is. Flame all you want. By the end of your flame, you'll see crimson on your hands, hence my name. Thank you for giving me a free show of a gore movie, I really appreciate it.
Inertia
CrimsonAuRevoir
Your feet caress the fine grains of caramel sand. The heat is dying, you say. As the sun sets over the blurry horizon, your heart constricts once more, and you cry, alone, in the invasion of darkness.
The view used to be the memoir of happy moments and carefree smiles, but now, whenever you come here, you want to remember the most you can because you're too afraid that he will completely slip away. And knowing that, someday, you will have to let go, you are terrified beyond measure.
You were just best friends since childhood, riding your bikes to this wonderful place and eating your French fries with your vanilla ice cream. No matter how much they call him gay and you a tomboy, still, you ride your bikes to the sunset, being the real best friends that you were.
You had tons of silly dreams- skydive; eat real, live worms; witness a zombie apocalypse; and a whole sea more. They lay on a wrinkled and creased sheet of paper, drowned by unintelligible scribbles of a mere youngster. You recall the bliss you shared whenever you took out your dull pencils to cross out one finished goal.
The weight of the crumpled sheet becomes significant in your pocket. The waves continue to come and go, along the shores on which you alone ponder and reminisce. There was one last dream that you failed to do together, before he left you like this.
You lost him forever.
Tears wouldn't stop rolling down your cheeks. You cry, and cry, and cry, on this shore, but it wouldn't bring him back. Not now, not ever.
It is getting dim and cold- that fateful night becomes vivid in your mind. You forgot to tell him that you went away on a trip. But you were absolute best friends, you knew he'd eventually understand. He understood. He understood more than what was supposed to be known- he thought you were gone, swallowed by the currents as you rode alone to the sea. He was desperately searching and waiting for you to come home. Sometimes, you hear his voice rippling through the moist air, crying your name out loud. He didn't know that you were safe and sound, sleeping in your bed in another room, another country. As the night plunged into the depths of time, he was determined to find you. His determination drowned in the cold waters.
You shouldn't have went away on that downright stupidtrip.
Your best friend was waiting for you to come home..but instead, he was the one who left.
And now, you are waiting, on the same seaside, with the same hopes, that, someday, you will see him again. As you open that folded note, you come across your discordant penmanship and several cross marks. Your eyes set upon the last dream you both had. Still, you cry and curse the heavens. What has he done to deserve this? Were you never meant to be?
You didn't even tell him that you loved him so much, anyway.
You can't let go. You are afraid that maybe one day, you will forget about this place, forget about everything concerning the greatest boy you met, the only person who gave you sunshine, and darkness soon after. The only one you ever loved.
Like inertia, you are stagnant- you want to remain this way forever, but you are alone, waiting for someone who will never come back.
You cry as you gaze upon the last dream you both had.
"Fall in love."
You blink, and you realize that, maybe, you can love alone. He wasn't there to hold your hand, kiss your forehead, spend forever with you. But in your heart, he is alive- you are stagnant, unlike the waves washing your feet and the caramel sand that both of you used to sit on.
You can't love alone, a humid breath tickles your ear, and you whirl around. It was your best friend's voice, you were sure of it. But he wasn't there, and he will never be. But as the tears on your face dry up, you think that this is enough. He wasn't there, to the untrained eye.
His apparition embraces your small figure, and after a while, you feel as if he is being pulled away. The cold touch on your skin gradually disappears, but you can't open your eyes- no, you want to stay this way. Stay a little longer.
One last sentence echoes out of the ghost who haunts you, of the angel who will leave you soon. You wonder if these are just tricks of your desolate mind. His words ring in your ears, and your heart flutters. You smile amidst the tears.
You can't love alone, he says one more time, as he bids goodbye.
.
.
.
.
I love you too, don't I?
I'm not good at sarcasm. Period. Constructive criticism is always welcome!