Was it so hard to stand by my side? Do you ever think about the choices your actions forced me to make and wonder what life could have been like if you had been able to bend? But giving even an once of control to someone else is beyond you and in the in I have no one to blame for my heartache but myself.
I loved you once. With a passion so burning that it blinded me to who you really were. I lived for you. I longed for you. Just being in the same room as you brought me so much joy. I clung to your words, to your promises, as if they alone would keep the world spinning; I was content to sit and sigh and dream of a life you had no intention of living. But I wasn't a fool. No, I was something much worst than a fool. I was in love.
Love, such a pale word. There is no feeling to it, no way those four little letters can spell out what the emotion truly is. Love brought me so high that I thought I would never fall and then slammed me far lower then the ground I started out on. Love, the one thing everyone is looking for, the thing that is meant to be the be all and end all of our lives. Love. What rubbish.
Love is lie we tell ourselves.
It is a way to sugarcoat the cravings we feel, a way to raise ourselves above the animals. Love is a rosebud on the verge of blooming; love is the touch of a mother; love is little girls sharing secrets and telling lies. Love is not what I felt for you. And yet it is. In some strange way, it is.
Would you laugh again if I said that? Would you tell me that my fairytale is over and to please move on? You did once before hence I see no reason why you wouldn't do so again. You are so very predictable. I did not think that you were, but in the end I was wrong about even that.
Sad as it may be, I still long for you, I still crave that hint of insanity you give off. I want to feel real hands on my body not the phantom touch of my memories. I want to wash your taste from my tongue. My mind and my heart tell me to keep you at bay and yet I find myself ever in your presence. Not enough to draw notice but there, on the side lines, staring at you as if I still have some meaning.
You smile until your face could crack from it, you play by the sick rules that life has so aptly taught you. I stand in your shadow and wonder if the flame that draws me to you is only a reflection of the light around you. How can you live in the way that you do without becoming a sick mockery of what you were destined to be? How can you play all your little games and not be twisted by them?
I was so happy when you let me in, so drunk on your kisses that I forgot my family's warnings. For one endless moment I believed that water and oil can mix, that the combination of opposites adds to the whole. I guess I can be forgiven for reaching for impossible things. I was, after all, very young.
But I am not young anymore. I have been shaped by the years between then and now. I would hope for the better, but only you can know that. You and those bedroom eyes. Is this what I have come to? I am really so low that I am willing to stay out of your sight while dreaming my dreams of you?
Do you know I am here? Do you feel the weight of my stares? Do you ever dream of me as I dream of you? Does your body remember the feel of mine? If I offered you my world, would you take it? Would you be able to stomach your pride, to rein in the cruelty you treat yourself to? If I stepped into the light would you reflect me? If I reached for you would you come to me still? Would you bite the apple if I held it to your lips?
I think not.
And because of that I will never again give voice to the offers I have yet to withdraw.