Broken Things

“You don’t understand. Please, step back. I’m actually a gigantic, walking “Warning! Hazard Ahead” Sign and you should be able to read this. I thought that you were smart enough. ”

He laughed, not like it was funny but at the absurdity of this whole situation. Two months ago, he didn’t even know who he was and now he was standing still but somehow still tumbling on his thoughts. Constantly thinking about this girl who had somehow gone on to define him.. who had cleared his fuzzy view and made him see him for himself after the longest time and this was all he had ever wanted. It came a bit early in his life but he didn’t mind it, not one bit. And now, here he was, offering everything he had and everything he would ever go on to achieve to this Beautiful Girl and she wouldn’t budge. She wouldn’t take him and end his misery.  He was getting so tired of these excuses and these lies and the little ways in which she pushed him so far away; almost as if she liked it when he was far away. But he knew better.. he wanted to be right now more than ever.

He said, “What don’t I get? That you’re fucked up? Well aren’t we all. Its always someone, the brother, the dad, the mother. There is always someone who breaks us a little on the inside and as we grow up, the breaking gets harder to fix and the cracks run deeper than the surface and there’s only so much glue and tape and pins that can hold messes together. And we grow up and older and we try to push these things away in a little corner that we often revisit, but for the most of the day, we shove them aside and kind of learn to live with the little good that we did see.” He held her by the arms, looked her in the eye and said, “It’s okay, we are all broken. I am broken too. Maybe not as much but a little bit. Now come, lets find all the broken places and touch them so we can be a part of each other’s broken memories and maybe that will make this better.”

She looked at him. These words made sense. His words make complete sense.. but she didn’t think that he deserved to witness this much sadness and darkness. ” No, but you don’t understand. It gets really dark in my head sometimes. There are times that I cry when nothing’s wrong and there are times when I lay in bed for hours thinking of the future and the past and everything in between and I am paralysed by my own thoughts and I don’t eat and I don’t sleep and it gets very dark and lonely and that’s something i don’t ever want you to have to see or go through with. This head of mine, it loses itself in a labyrinth made my itself and I am not in charge anymore and I want to make this stop but I can’t and you shouldn’t have to step in right now.

He looked at her and said, “Im ready and I want to step in. I want to touch the cracks and the scars. Take your time. Show me bit by bit, but my condition is  show me. Show me and don’t back down for an actual shot at something here. Don’t back down and if you want to talk or someone to cry with or someone to lay down with, I am your guy. “

[NOT] A Morning Person. 

I woke up this morning to a new me, one that was woken up by your snores. New me isnt annoyed, she’s pleased. She’s laughing to herself as she slowly runs her fingers over your lips while you look like you’re on a cloud (well, except for that snoring). New me doesnt drag her feet on the ground to get to the espresso machine; to actually wake up to this messy world. New me actually loves stretching on the bed while I sing the most annoying song, in full volume to wake you up. You wake up with that nasty grin on your face; one that reads that you’re going to get me back for this. You tickle me and tackle me until I stop and I tackle back; with heavy laughter, that comes from far deeper than the lungs. My heart is fluttering (which biologically isnt possible, but poetically; makes all the sense in the world) and my body feels so much more awake than those coffee grains have ever made me feel. 

 New me loves Mornings. 
-Footnote:

{This may not seem alot, But Better Mornings make for better Days.💖}