EVERY TIME I SEE YOU
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I knew that I had to accept it. I had to move on. But nothing could be harder than destroying the very thing I wanted most. How does one become their own traitor and cut something this deep? He would think of 'her' and my heart would break all over again.
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"Nobody broke your heart. You broke your own because you can't finish what you start."
– Alameda, Elliot Smith
Every time I see you my roughly bandaged but completely bloodied heart falls to pieces all over again. It is not that you are with another girl, in a way I guess that would hurt less – it is your sweet smile as you think of the girl. And the bright light that shines in your eyes, portraying so entirely that four letter word love.
Yes, the girl that you swear one day you will profess your strong feelings to but have never developed enough courage.
Maybe if my author was in the mood this story would end beautifully and slightly, no wait totally, cliché:
He told me that he would practice his speech on me because 'I was a girl.' So we sat down one day after school on those creaky park swings, the ones that have been there for years, and I watched as he nervously tugged his sleeves and ran long fingers through already tousled hair. Facing me, he stared deeply into my eyes and spoke one simple sentence, a sentence so beautiful and yet purely charged with emotion. My breath caught in my throat as his husky voice drifted on the wind which caressed my ears. "You are my every thought, my every feeling, my everything." Slowly he lowered his perfect lips to mine, gentle at first but quickly succumbing to passion. My arms wrapped around his neck and he held me closer, deepening the kiss further. The Kiss. Abruptly I pulled away, heart numb, and panted out: "She would be a fool to refuse you after that." Consuming pain gripped my body, fuelled by his taste still present in my mouth. He reached out and gently wiped the leaking tear from my eye. I wanted to yell for him to get back, wrench my body from his grip, but instead sat motionless as he breathed hotly on my neck: "You are the fool because you are the girl." And with another fervent kiss he mended my heart better than a doctor ever could.
But, alas, that story has been told many a time and now we must face that which is called reality. Oh! Dear, sweet, joyous reality. Note the heavy sarcasm. So heavy it crushes my chest painfully and slowly squeezes out all the air leaving me falling…
I always wanted a hero of sorts – a man who could save me from myself, these pitiful thoughts, and attempt to hold the world from crashing down. One that could fill the void explored despairingly in my somewhat poetic journal.
You may wonder where this short story is going, and let me tell you, it's not. There is no grand narrative structure to sweep you off your feet, no suspenseful climax that tempts, leaving you aching for more. It is merely an endeavour to portray the endless thoughts that swirl, mocking me, slowly bringing me undone.
When you stare out that window what do you see? Is it her gazing searchingly into your eyes, seemingly piercing your soul? Or is it her tugging shyly on your hand, blush creeping up her cheeks when you grip it tighter?
Aim: To get over you completely, destroy this unrequited love that has so totally consumed me.
Hypothesis: FAIL! I am plagued by the way you laugh, the way you shake your head slightly to clear the hair from blocking your vision, the way you scribble notes messily on scraps of paper because your folders are never where you last put them, the way you always rock back on the legs of your chair, the way you eat a bright red apple every lunch, the way you stay behind in art class to finish off work when you tell your mates that you have detention. God! The way you breathe.
And then you did it. You nervously stuttered your feelings and she reached up on her tiptoes to kiss your chin. No words were needed. I ask myself if she knows as much about you as I do, if she really cares about those little quirks. And still I see you everywhere, always with her. Yes, always with her.
I hate you because together you are so damn perfect and I know that I am not enough for you. I never was.
A/N: Please review I would appreciate that so very very much.
Hope you enjoyed,
she gets skills from the pills