One of many.
Are you happy?
Maybe not as much as you’d want to be, not as much as you’d seen someone else be- which hurts more, if you’re that kind. It doesn’t hurt that they have the happiness, it’s not that you want to take it away from them, but it’s that teal-grey that seeps into your eyes with every time someone gets what you wish for and haven’t got.
Or even worse, something that just slipped out of your hand.
When you were looking somewhere else but thinking about what was in your hand. Who slipped, really? It’s awkward- being the dreamier of the two. But not being that is a lesson that you’ve tried learning over and over again but simply haven’t been able to grasp.
And this isn’t how you saw yourself- but then, what was it that you did?
Over time, and it will happen, it’ll be more about how you felt, than who you felt it for. How far you pushed yourself. Over time, the traces of him over you will fade. The scent will become less familiar, and the words will not be the same- at least, not their meaning. What’ll stay in your head is how you reacted to them. Those particular words.
It won’t hurt over time, and if you’re lucky, you’ll have those stolen moments of golden sunshine that see you patting your back for having got those 4 weeks right. Almost, that is. Because if it were perfectly right, you wouldn’t have been here. Trying to figure what went wrong. And in moments of weakness and being petty, trying to figure who went wrong.
The might of the ego versus the deception of the heart versus the craving of touch versus the silence of the mind.
All in one person who cannot abandon any of these- all in you.
And in your mind, all of the time- dreading. Dreaming. Stepping. Slipping. Falling. Flying. Fighting. Forgiving. Hiding. Highlighting.
You couldn’t be more alive, and certainly not more dead.