Afternoon naps are supposed to be delightful bits of luxury. Filled with extra rest and daydreams. Instead I lay shivering alone, my brain wrapped in darkness. It’s as if I was given a glimpse into the world you are in now. A world without me and one with her. Yet my unconscious plays cruel jokes as your life and mine collide once again in my apartment. I had let you go long ago. Hopefully this was the last as my brain catches up on the backlog and processes you away for good.
How do you become a better person? Do you just decide and that’s it? The path to change is bright and I cherish the glimpses you share of your journey with me. I revel as I watch your confidence bubble over as your eyes gleam and shoulders stand proud. I am glad you made these choices because perhaps our collision would not have occurred. Sitting across from you today becomes harder to focus as magic beans and one trick pony blur the edges around us. As If we are in a painting etching out the noise around us. It’s just us and that’s when I catch myself falling a little bit harder. The moment is filled with to much perfection, hops and hope.
Moments like this always feel the same as those days at the amusement park. Bright, warm and youthful. That exact moment when the coaster dips downwards. Stealing my breath away. Freezing me in a free-fall. So quick, fast and all at once. Unexpected yet familiar. Heart pounding and carefree. Small bumps caused by both fear, cold and excitement dot my spine. Yet somehow I have been here before. I have felt your lips against mine. Your warm hands grazing my back. Your eyes so focused on mine that my black heart flutters and I look away. Today has not happened until now yet I feel like I have come back home. Back to a moment that I have felt before. Maybe our hearts or our lips have met before. My mind is comforted to having finally caught up. You are exactly where you are supposed to be.
I am my own public enemy number one. I trip over my own intellect. I get lost in the future. Always anticipating. Getting close to the flame and then quickly retreating. Tiring myself out as I teeter on the brink of vulnerability. However in case of emergency one must don their own safety mask first, prior to assisting others. It’s better to be tangled in the moment. In the playfulness. Feeling the warmth. Being held tight in your arms. Looking at the lengths of your eye lashes. Breathing in deeply the potential. The noise doesn’t matter. Let the expectations slide to your wayside as they are nothing but a distraction from what you have always wanted.
This feels like a dream. The way the fog envelopes us in her milky casing. The sky tinged with the slightest hint of pink as the sun and the moon exchange places. The side-walk swiped with a smearing of frost. “We can’t be in a dream. Where walking to slow. If it were a dream we would already be there.” Where do you wan’t to be? I whisper.” Right here.” As he pulls me in close . Butterfly’s are slowing replacing the shards of glass surrounding my black heart.
It’s odd how it just flicks on. How you can do so well and then you slip. Laborious yet swift. How there is a great distance between my heart and my head. I have learned to just let it come. Let the salt spill out. I’m not even sure why but is rushes my body in small tragic waves. My fingers stretch across my eyes. My thumb by my right temple and my index by the left. As if covering them will make it stop. A little protection never hurt. My shoulders shake. I am thick as thieves with zolpidem, and camomile. If a tree falls in the forest and there is no one around to hear it, does it make a sound?
When your black heart is broken and the shards rattle around in your chest. When the coolness of the floor is more comfortable then getting back up. For when your lost in the shadow. Consumed by the fear. Drowning in the dark. When loneliness appears to be your only option you think it’s become a choice. It’s for nights like this where the air is clear and optimistic. It’s for when the clouds hold back the rain. So you can walk together and feel another person’s empathy. So that you can hear their tragedy. It’s for when you want to touch but can’t and you wait with anticipation. It’s for when you linger in the light. When you feel the heat in the restaurant but get lost in the laughter. It’s in the warmth of his hand as your fingertips feel each and every groove. It’s the smell of leather and hope. It’s when your black heart is fuzzy, sweet, and revived. This is why you pick yourself back up.
Your arms are wrapped around my waist. You hold me in tight as we walk through the cool night together. Criss crossing down the quite streets hidden away from the bustle. I glance over and you are looking at the stars. So clear and dark. It’s hard not to get lost in the expanse above us as it’s tucked in between the skyscrapers. Light, warm, and safe. You are his antithesis. I am content. You smell like soap, security, and hope. My black heart breaths a sigh of relief. You are exactly what it needs. No rushes of jealously or burst’s of anger. That glint in your eyes when you look at me calms all of my brokenness. And here I go again…
What makes a person feel beautiful? What makes a person appear beautiful? Is it the hours spent on ones hair. Is it the endless creams and swipes of red lipstick. Is it because someone else says it out loud? I think when you forget for a second what defines it that’s when it happens. Perhaps it’s in the moment when your in something comfy and mundane. Accompanied by un-styled hair and not a stitch of make-up. I feel it’s when you forget that for a few moments it’s about the music, you have gone to go see. How that makes you feel. How your drink tastes. How it rushes over your taste-buds. How you just dance and jump around. You get lost in the simple purity of the moment. Divey bar and cheap bears. Get lost in the ignorance because just for a second the moment is yours. As the song ends and your cheeks are flushed and your heart is quite, it’s not till a perfect stranger draw’s you out. His hand rests on your hip. His words a meer murmur in your ear. As his forehead brushes up against the back of your head and the hairs on your neck stand to the attention of his whisper. "You are the most beautiful girl at the red room".
How come at that exact moment I saw his face? I hate when I think of him. I feel like when I do it’s like taking 10 steps back. My black heart was was healing. I had taped it back up careful not to prick myself with the shards of glass strewn across the bathroom floor. I was ready to not feel sad any-more. Yet there was his face. His eyes filled with flecks of gold. All I can think about is how tomorrow is Friday and what that used to mean. I’m overcome with my two worst fears materializing. Completely alone with it slipping back into my mind. The sickness of the brain that everyone and no one understands. The saltiness makes my eyes puffy as I fall asleep surrounded by Kleenex. I just want to go into the tub and forget it all. Let the steam rise up and soothe my aching muscles, because everything hurts again. That’s when I think of you doorways and elevator rides. I wish the universe would let you know how much I miss you. I want to find myself enveloped in one of your deep hugs. I need your help to pick me up for bathroom floor (again.) I think I have lost you for good. Him was inevitable but you not so much.