My mother taught me that intimacy with a man was the subsequent of marriage. I grew up learning intimacy with a man led from falling in love. Neither held an important role in my list of priorities..
Love. A fairytale notion. Irrelevant and inconvenient. Yet a girl once believes in fairytales - tooth fairies and true loves kisses. It's embarrassing, but not enough for me to admit that I was once the little girl. I haven't seen her in years.
I think years of witnessing my mother's toxic relationship helped contribute to the development of my allergy. Or maybe they were my own. Transforming the beautiful dialect to a name of a nightmare.
Last night he told her he was leaving. It was last night when everything ended. Every moment, every tear, every stolen glance just a ghost of something that will one day be forgotten. It was when time stopped, but not for him. He was still moving, just further away from her.
She tried to be happy for him. She attempted a smile, cracked a half-felt joke... all the while her insides felt like they were being gnashed apart by invisible claws. How badly she wanted to rip her heart out right then – just to take the pain away. But how could she be so selfish? How can she beg him to stay when it was all her fault? She should have been braver. She should have done something. To her, there was all ...
"She stood over the crevice and watched the world go on without her. The tiny figure of a man in a trenchcoat rushed across the street; chattering on his phone whilst balancing a cup of steaming coffee and a newspaper to his breast. Nearby, a group of elderly women gathered together in a small café, peering about them for the slightest chance of gossip. How pretty they all looked from up here. One after another, bustling amongst themselves on an over populated street, creating endless patterns and forms like a kaleidoscope.
What a burden it is to be a human. So small and insignificant to the world, whilst carrying a universe within them. What a pity it is to die; every breath and heartbeat...
I forgive you for taking your pain out on me.
Your skin, your body
I watched you. I learned you. And I loved you. There i said it - I love you. Now my chest feels light and my head less cluttered. I can look you in the eye and let you read my soul. Because what is a more heavy phrase than that? I love you. Not just your sense of humor, or your constant desire to use your own body to shield me from the world. It's not just the slow smile that takes over your entire face. Or that devious glint in those eyes I adore so much. Not even your beautiful words, that sometimes leave me hanging on to every last one like watching the clouds while walking the edge of a cliff. More importantly, I don't just love you for your demons, regardless of how many sit under your b...