When I heard the smile of stories in their eyes, their upbeat tones and shrugs of the situation's simplicity, I felt crushed; the world was suddenly grey-scale.
The hopeful beating in my chest stopped, I smiled off the gurgling tears, like rampant bacteria shoving themselves through Troys gates, they were so roaring and rigid, I swallowed them down my throat into a lump in my chest. I buried the tears like a little fairy digging a hole, curling up and sitting in it. and then eating her way further and further into the blackness, with mud smothered over her little round crimson face.
I tried to think about the boy as I lay in bed, naked and cold. The moon dripped into the room, the cool blue tinge tainting all the rancid colours of unkept materials that were scattered on the floor. I couldn't think about him without feeling hurt, without feeling gone and all was at an end. I couldn't feel a sense of comfort when I imagined him by my side. Sometimes it still doesn't feel as though anything happened.. it's just like a solid lump of time in history that I've tried to push away and forget. A feeling of amnesia but with a dry, salty taste of tears in my mouth whenever I attempt to unlock the solid lump.
My heart had to say goodbye those days ago.
Waking up; everything always seems fresh.. seems new. There is that moment when you first wake up when you don't think, you only feel, you're in your prime, in your animal. It is wonderful.
And then the thoughts come, words come into place as you try to logically reason and figure out what your feelings mean, and how they should be responded to.
I think I understand the boy. I think. actually, I feel it. But after what I had heard, everything changed. My body detached itself from any little pieces of hope it ever had managed to grasp onto in desperation.
Perhaps it is just the beginning of a big, tremendous turn over, with wonderful change and new life in me. But it is so scary and daunting knowing what is happening in the depths of my consciousness- or unconsciousness rather - yet still being tied to habits like a ball and chain.
I can only prey and do my very best to surpass and accept and move on from everything I was and currently am, into a self that I want to be. Unfortunately there is no room in my heart or mind for anybody else in an intimate sense, as much as my biology, habitual knowings and soul yearns for it, whilst I'm on this journey, at least, I really.. really don't think so.
A great big part of me still wants to be with the boy.. man.. guy... him. But there is so much fear in my heart. Fear of myself, of that ball and chain of my own demons.
But over time.. I guess, who doesn't love a great tackle to the ground, into the soil to plant a new sprout of life, from what was once utter fear?
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