Hoping You Find Your True Love

It is 04:12 AM.

My bed is lifeless, littered randomly with clothes I threw there before leaving to look for something outside of the four walls of my room. I think I found it. I lie, I know I found it. I always do.

Don’t take this as a confession, it really isn’t one.

I can still smell him on me, I spent the last four hours cuddling next to him. He gives me the kinda peace I crave for, often words aren’t able to describe it. Often I don’t want to write about him because I fear once I do so he will die in my reality.

He’s on the edge. I might have pushed him there, he doesn’t need a saviour but he says he needs me. I don’t want to be needed. I just stay. Hoping I can give him enough music to keep dancing, I am terrified that one day, after I leave he’ll turn off the radio completely.

I know I speak in riddles, I’ve never been good at saying what exactly is on my mind. I mean, right now, I’m not drunk enough to tell you how I really feel. yeah, I’m one of those. (The person who acts like she hates you, until she is drunk and confesses her undying love for you.)

I know that I love him, all his weird ways. I love him but I never completely give myself to him. I have spent all this time hoping to find a kind of love the novels and movies tell us about, I have it, right here and now and I keep running.

I run away from hands that want to hold me, a heart that wants to love me, and a soul that wants to lift me up into bliss. I can taste it’s magic even though I refuse to kiss him. I can feel it when he is near even though sometimes I look for ways to avoid him, listen to other voices and do unruly things just to push him away but he stays, it terrifies me.

I don’t think he understands that people like me aren’t meant to be kept and loved, people like me can’t be kept inside cages, even if they are open, we want to fly, we build nests on wind currents so we always go, away, in search of something greater than ourselves.

I often wonder what will happen if I went to far…

If I didn’t answer his call.

If I didn’t say hello.

If he ceased to exist in my world.

The world stops, I think his world stops but I refuse to believe I am his axis so I pray he keeps on spinning, I pray he keeps on loving. I hope he find someone who can love him the way he does me. That scary kinda love that keeps you on the edge waiting for the next big thing.

He wants me to smile, laugh, grow and become better at being me. He wants to be the one to catch my tears.

He asked me, “When was the last time you cried?”

I answer, ” a few days ago.”

“why?” He questions.

“Sometimes I get sad. The kinda sad that needs a few tears.”

It wasn’t a lie. Wasn’t completely the truth either. and he knew it in his own weird away. He knows me like that. I am ashamed to admit that I was thinking about saying goodbye, the thought of it tore me apart, I am between a rock and a hard place. How do you tell someone you love that you want to leave because you aren’t healthy for them. Quite frankly, I hurt him more than I do him any good.

His heart, is a treasure chest filled with voice notes of all the things I said I would do and never did. I think sometimes he plays them and it just hurts. It must hurt to have me so close but so far.

He can touch me but he can’t feel me.

There is no excuse.

He has seen me, in bits and pieces, my pretty, my ugly, my messy, my selfish and rarely my loving. He stays. It scares me.

This is not a story of a girl who has “friendzoned” a boy who loves her. It’s a story of a girl who knows that this is the one heart she can’t break completely by giving in to her own temptations. This girl collects experiences and feelings. She leaves nests everywhere. She has broken hearts, but here… in this house, in this home. She just wants to leave a few cracks on the window instead of breaking down the walls. Thats a good thing right?

I believe it is.

So if I ever had to leave.

I hope he keeps spinning.

I hope he doesn’t jump.

I hope he doesn’t become a bitter soul mad at the world.

I hope he doesn’t burn.

I hope he doesn’t hate me.

I hope he finds brilliant love, in the arms of someone who wants to hold him, kiss him, fuck him, touch him, cuddle with him, listen to him. just to be with him. To be in love with him.

I hope she has the courage to do all the things I couldn’t do for him. All the things I refused to do. All the things I did so poorly.

Here is to you.

I hope you find your true love. You deserve her. I am sure she is waiting for you, wondering when you will arrive. Just promise me you won’t stop looking for her after the wind blows me away.

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