Maybe it was the way he looked. Maybe it was the way he smiled. Maybe it was the way he laughed, throwing his head back as if wanting to show the angels what heaven really sounded like.
Maybe it was the way he would look at me with those eyes of his, so full of deep thoughts. Or maybe it was the way he would talk so nonchalantly, but every word felt like it meant something incredibly important.
I latched onto every word he spoke, soaking in his voice like the sun. I attached myself to his speech patterns, and the way he shouted out certain words with that gorgeous smile of his.
“Delicious!” he would yell, raising his hand in the air in pairing with the word, as if proving his point in both speech and action.
“Magnificent!” Every syllable accented perfectly, making me swoon.
In everything I see him, and unattaching myself to him seems to be an impossible endeavor, despite the measures I go to, to forget. But how can I forget something and someone that has been so monumental in my life? Who has shown me the meaning of addiction, of obsession, of infatuation?
Back and forth I argue with myself. I want to talk to him, but I don’t. I want to see him, but I don’t. I want to be with him, but I don’t. I know that it’s not worth it, not worth the anxiety and worry. He’s no longer worth wasting my time, nor my energy and peace of mind. But shall I ever find peace of mind again? Whether or not I’m with him, I’m still wasting my time worrying, wasting energy on someone who--does care about me but--does not spend any of his time or energy on me. I have spent so much time thinking about him, longing. Thoughts and daydreams conspire against me, and have burned me thoroughly.
The fire of desire burned in me, all I wanted was him. I was deceived by the warmth in his words. Trying to read the smoke in his eyes I thought I had stumbled upon the flame of love, when truly it was just a burning pit of lust. I saw the glow of his personality, and I knew the smoke he blew in his friends faces was just a disguise to hide who he truly was. Despite his efforts to hide, I saw the light in him; the wind had blown the smoke in a different direction, allowing me to soak in his warmth.
I fell for him, and the problem with falling is you have no control of where you’ll land. Instead of crashing into him, I fell into emptiness; empty words and secret insinuations. Half-truths spoken so tenderly they could have fooled anyone. I couldn’t help falling I realize, but I wish I would have prepared a parachute. The winds of lust carried me out, away from the land and into darkness. I glided, feeling as if I had wings. Maybe I really was flying? But it was probably the clouds that surrounded my brain that made me feel high. High off his scent, I was intoxicated with the thoughts of him, addicted to him. I fell through thin air, and kept falling. Suddenly the clouds drifted away, and the drug wore off. I crashed into realization, falling into deep water.
There is no easy way out of my predicament, and I wish I could have seen that in the beginning, before I waded in too deep. Deep into the watery depths of my emotions; an ocean frequently flooded with salty tears. I flounder desperately, gasping for air, searching wildly for something to grip onto. He is no longer my life raft. I’d rather drown in these emotions than dirty the water to talk to him again; why would I when I’m beginning to see clearly for once?
Maybe I wanted to nurture him. Maybe I thought I could heal him, but he hid his wounds from me, suffering in silence. Maybe I was an idiot for trying. Maybe I was in love. Maybe I was just longing for love. Maybe I’m still longing. Maybe I’m just tired, my brain whizzing about with thoughts and daydreams full of darkness. Maybe I’m venting.
The release of these feelings clears my brain, and lets me look back with a smile at those memories of him. I did love him.
Maybe I still do.