yes, i’m still attached to you and i look for you. and it brings me a passion and it feeds my addiction and a need for your approval. there is a strong attachment but i remove you like bullets with my hands… pain carries souls and stories and hurt is one longest memory.
and it hurts, you know. because you were my favorite part of every day. i made you my sun and moon and every star in my hazy dreamy world. but it just doesn’t matter now. isn’t that bizarre ? you put your heart and soul into someone else’s hands and then it just ends and you have to take everything back. but you can’t take everything back. but you want to. but you don’t. and you can’t. that’s the worst part, you can’t. you make them the air that you breathe and then they’re gone and you have to keep breathing whatever toxicity is left behind, and it hurts. my lungs hurt. but no one is going to save me, and that’s the worst part too. you just want someone to take the hurt away for a minute, just a second, but they can’t. you have to keep living until the pain gets dull. you don’t want to because they were the best part of this life and now they aren’t here anymore and you can hardly bear it. but you have to keep living anyways. and it hurts.
but then your compassion doubles. and you learn that you give your love to those who have proven themselves worthy of it. someone who empathizes and like you, who looks at life through a dreamy set of rose colored glasses, and you lie under the bare sky and full moon (not today as it’s raining) and you both solve love related dilemmas with poise and style and all the way you giggle in a silly manner.
for the boy with the backpack, i told you today what you wanted to hear. for a person who craves directness, you weren’t direct or truthful. it’s a shame really as you won’t know heaven till you know me. all i wanted you to do is fight for me.
we both are bad actors and we are waiting for someone to ask the questions we skillfully avoid with passion and purpose.
and my darling, i take photographs, and i’ll make a handful of u-turns and that’s just what life is all about sometimes; taking chances on strangers and not worrying about getting lost along the way. there is always a way out, but that doesn’t mean i can’t make a graceful exit.