I feel always on the run. Always fleeing from the past, away from old horrors, ready to let cobwebs conceal the skeletons long ago buried. Running away from old lovers who terrify me to my core, knowing full well what they are capable of now. They say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, but they did not see the wildness in his eyes, the venom, the urge to wound. His desire to see me suffer far outweighed any affection he ever felt for me.
I want to be honest with you, but I know some stories are not meant to be told. I want to be truthful, but I know lies can sound better. I want to be close to you, but my affections can be exhausting. I crave intimacy but I have trouble maintaining eye contact when we’re speaking. I want to know your hopes and dreams but I’m afraid you’ll laugh at mine. I want to fall in love again but I don’t think I have any heart left over. These days I am more sick of pleasure than you are sick of pain.
I used to think that I was addicted to earthly pleasures, to tangled bodies and messy ecstasy, fleeting but gratifying. I glorified hedonistic living. I was always too afraid to admit that I desperately yearned for intimacy, for closeness, for the brief respite of being understood. Love was never simply unbridled lust or delicate fantasies, love was your kiss good morning, the feel of chapped lips on my skin, and indecent whispers that tickled my ears.
But maybe I have to lose myself in the darkness before I can recover the light. Maybe I have to taste death before I can appreciate every breath. Maybe this absence is supposed to teach us a lesson and no matter how harsh the truth may seem now, we can be forever changed for the better.
i used to think love was a tragedy in waiting
i had watched it drain the life out of people
leave them blue, bruises painted on their wrists,
their lovers held them so tight and never let go
i thought that was how the stories are told
i never knew love could fill you up
make your heart beat in sync and the joy of your laughter could
send me to sleep
and i could wake up in the morning missing you
after hours of not kissing you
i could yearn for the taste of your lips and
i never knew love could exist without hurting
until i met you