I woke up in a path of destruction. Fumbling about, I gathered myself and assessed the situation.
Wait, where am I?
I blinked a couple times but nothing appeared lucid as I rubbed my eyes for clearer visionary understanding.
How long have I been here?
Clouds of smoke billowed around me and an unfamiliar terrain seems to surround me.
Have I been here before?
All of the little details and emotions that flood my mind convince me you are a demon most nights, but not tonight. Tonight I realized you aren’t a demon. I realized it is all due to the fact that you were truly my hero. I worshipped you.
I adored you and looked up to you like you were the greatest thing to have ever graced the ground I walked on. I wanted everything and anything good to make its way into your life and paint you in shades of happiness.
But you had other plans, as you reached right into the parts of me that lay void and filled them with warmth right before ripping it all right from my chest. You wrapped me in a facade of energy that felt safe and loving and infinite. I desperately fell for it all, tripping into an inevitable fall that would invariably wound me. Cutting into me deeper each time with evil precision, I couldn’t take it.
I had to go, I had to leave, it was torture.
When you let someone else control the entirety of your identity, you are letting them control much more than just your physical being. Everything they do, becomes what you react to, physically and mentally. Attaching yourself to another person in this way opens you to losing the whole of the identity you sought after with them, when they decide to part with you.
You are replaceable… with the foundation, however, being completely superficial. What type of clothes you wear, the people you hang with, even down to the name to which others call you, can be changed and/or replaced. But when you begin to individualize yourself, your actions and emotions become singular, they become yours. The impressions you leave will forever be imprinted as yours and only yours.
Be you, unapologetically. You are growing and maturing and you will reach many points in your life where you will find you are forced to identify with a concept or person. Make sure it is something you truly identify with, or at least something you resonate with. But by all means, avoid doing or saying certain things simply because you feel as though it is what someone else would do or want you to do.
Be you, be you, be you.
Because at the end of the day, nobody can take that away.
The nights don’t hurt me anymore, even when your pain feels so lovely. A gravitational pull towards the inevitable, the moon crushes my chest in an effort to make space for your heart.
One of these nights I will hold myself and all of the versions of me I have ever left behind. I will pull on the hands of those who beg to touch, even if pleasure falls through the cracks in my fist.
I have accepted that I am a memory.
And as a memory, I will no longer physically enter your life. Every gentle touch I graced you with will slowly fade into a simple remembrance of lust. Every picturesque moment of me dragging my fingers across your skin, softly kissing your neck, and whispering secrets to you in the isolated presence of our scars. All of this will be but a flash of the past, a dream that will soon become so faint you will be taunted with the idea of a nightmare.
However, be careful, for this is not a photo you can keep. This is not a book that I will allow you to store on a shelf, only to eventually forget about. I will continue to allow this memory to form it’s rightful infection.
I am but a memory, but you will always remember me.
Gentle music bounces off brick walls as I sip notes of cocoa and cinnamon from a hot cup of freshly brewed coffee. I brought my MacBook with me to this coffee shop but odds are I will do what I normally do, opening the screen to look inconspicuous but really spending my time bewildered by those around me. I’m always distracted by the energy that surrounds other people.
This time it’s a couple cozied up on the distressed couches placed in the corner by large windows. A man endearingly gazes at, who I assume is, his girlfriend next to him. Examining the expressions on her face and seemingly in bliss, she catches these stares after tasting one of the shops homemade muffins. She pinches his arm in what looks to be an expression of embarrassment for him having witnessed her messy eating, and he soon after, kisses her forehead.
Unaware of the world around them, both immersed in the aura and presence of the other. What a way to be in love.
Light seeps vertically through a single crack in the curtains that fall softly from the top of my window. I can see thin layers of dust collecting in the tall corners of the room as the sun decidedly pierces the shadows that once plagued these empty spaces.
“How long have I been laying here?”
I toss my legs to the edge of the bed, stretching in a way I believe will somehow release all feelings of wanting to crawl back into the sheets. I reach out to flick the curtains back, and out of the window I can see children playing in the complex’s community pool.
I listen to their laughter as they move carefully around the deck that has been splashed and soaked. It reminds me of the darker times when you somehow innocently pulled a smile out of me, how you always made me feel youthful.
Recently, life has struck me in such a humbling way, reminding me that everything I have could be taken. Everything I possess, whether I fought for it or not, is a privilege. I do not take anything for granted, even time.