Tuesday 22 November 2016

If I ask you to leave, will you stay?

It’s 5 AM and I’m on the roof of my house trying to figure out the shortest distance to yours. Directions have always impaired me and I almost never know where I’m going but for you, I’d figure this galaxy out like the back of my hand and know every nook and corner on my fingertips, the stars on my palms.

It doesn’t hurt that you have left. Not anymore. Deep down, I always knew you would, even when you promised you’d never. It doesn’t hurt that I can’t remember the sound of your laughter when I knew it is better than mine and it doesn’t hurt that you disappeared before I could turn around and watch your footsteps turn to dust. What hurts is that we talked about it. We talked about you leaving, about our goodbye, about the end of us and you laughed. You laughed.

And then you left.

And I’m fine with it. I’m fine with how you left without ever looking back, with how you broke every single one of your promises and with how you broke me, little by little, every single second.

But I’m not fine with how I could never figure out why you could never take any less than three sugar cubes in your coffee. Three, every single time.

I’m not fine with how I never understood why the stars didn’t fascinate you like the silence did, why you loved walking barefoot in the fields during sunsets, why the thorns that made you bleed never hurt you, why you laughed the loudest after 3 am, why your voice sounded so tired at 7pm, why you always did the absolute opposite of what I told you to do, why the people that broke you meant the most to you, why you thought that writing about your past stole your memories, why the sunrise every morning meant so much to you, why you hid from the sunrise every morning, why you were so scared of me leaving when you were the one who left without saying goodbye and why you could never take any less than three sugar cubes in your coffee. Three, every single time.

Maybe I was never meant to figure you out. Maybe you were always meant to be a mystery to me in this galaxy, and in every other too!

Maybe you were always meant to be my mystery!

Maybe if I had asked you to leave, you would have stayed.!

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