sweet boy, for this one time I’ll break your heart

I’m slowly becoming accustomed to the performance of our routine. Like a creature of habit, I prefer these scenes, being less dependent on you, being less inclined to your needs. I would love it if it would continue like this; love you if you could be my regular international phone call. Malheureusement I don’t see forever lasting in the reflection in your eyes. I can’t feel my heart resting in the palm of your hands.

“You don’t think I’ll tell you the truth if you asked me?
If he had asked you would you have told him you were with me??”

There was a long pause as she shivered and forced her mind back to that night, and then the following evening of celebrations.Those moments were so overlapping that in her mind she still doubted their occurrence. “I would never lie to you, even if I needed to, to keep you; just as I wish to keep you forever, your eyes would hear the truth.”

“You think I don’t ask you questions because I’m scared I’ll have to tell you about my past, about all the things I’ve done? I’d tell you everything, because none of it matters. I don’t raise the questions because I know you don’t want to address things. I know it makes you uncomfortable to have to tell me your secrets. You would flirt with just anybody in front of me, but you would never tell me how you feel. You think that’s easy for me, you think I didn’t see it, or don’t remember it. My entire trip is burned in my sodding memory, first your fingers tracing my face, then the ashes of the aftermath in your crackling laughter. I’ll always be here for you, and stupidly or not I will wait till you see me like I do you, till you fall in love with me too.”

She truely thought she would never lie to him, but things change and if he asked her, there were things she would not admit to. Maybe that is when your subconscious automatically shuts away all moral dues, because it has done it too many times in the past.

“What did he give you that I can’t”

“Attention. Generosity. Me before himself.”

He briskley looked up off the floor, his eyes snapping against her too calm demeanour, “you should listen to yourself sometimes before you make me sound like an arrogant fart.
What have I been doing for the past three months? I know you’re not trying to keep me anymore, you have a foreboding sense that you will lose me anyway.”

Pacing his words whilst standing completely still he said, “these days, with your defeatist words, weekends away, nights unresponsive, I can’t stop myself from seeing your picturesque nightmares manifested in my characteristically normal reality.”

Miss Mess


About iheartmess

A Middle Eastern Londoner 20-something living the 'western' life in between London and home.
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