You made your home inside of me. You started slowly, placing brick by brick and fixing those bricks with cement and water. You came close, sometimes too close and sometimes; not close enough. You were there, enchanting and then you were gone. Your eyes would meet mine and for the rest of the night, I would search for my favourite pair. Then there were doors. There were tiny creaking doors and large doors with no handles and no locks. And suddenly you were everywhere. Your eyes were the only pair and your shoulder was the only one I wanted rubbing against mine. Your breath was synced with mine and your days were now ours. Your home had windows, windows that would open with no locks and windows that would stay open through the night. You’d walk in and grab by the hand and take me out for hours. We’d be by the sea one second and staring at the stars next. There was no limit to and there were no questions asked. Your home was chaotic and calm with a hint of lavender perfume in the air and a voice in my ears which always made my skin crawl and the hair on the back of my neck rise and that’s when I Knew that you should never build Homes in people because when you start slamming doors and shattering windows and painting the walls from red to blue and from blue to a pale grey, it Crumbles.
It crumbles beneath the sheer pain of abandonment and loss. It stands there on its bricks and mud trying to hold the life it contained within it, only to find that you can build Houses but sustain them with Life and only then can they become Homes.
I was Home and when you left, the doors broke off of their hinges and the ceiling crashed against the wall. There were shards of glasses everywhere. There were mirrors and frames and photographs and records and posters of your favourite 70’s rock band and that the last remnant of your most worn hoodie and your mother’s jewellery box which always had my ring. They were there but not anymore. They shattered under the agony of hearts falling apart and fates falling together and only then did I chant, “Never build homes in people, because they will burn and break and you will leave the four walls barely standing”.
You left a flight at risk without a fear of falling.
Look at us. Look at the distance between us. This distance; I can stretch my arms and cannot reach you and that is the definition of distance; to not be able your bones against mine, to feel the shiver down your spine go down mine too.
Look at us. How did we get this far? How did we get here at all? I am standing here and you are standing there and in between us there is this huge wall of hurt and remorse and pain and resentment.
You used to like me at some point didn’t you? You used to like nudging shoulders and having me close and having our breaths in sync, the rhythmic rise and fall of our chests; the slight smiles always on our faces. You used to like me before.. right? There was something and I didn’t make it all up. But look at us now.
I want to hold you close and feel your ache as my own and to feel the words coming out of your mouth fall right into mine and to understand your pain as my own but you are too fucking far. You don’t want me to share your parts anymore. You don’t want me to breathe your air and to share your moments to and stumble and fall my way into your arms.
You refuse to take me as your own and you refuse to acknowledge Us. You refuse you to take a step forward and you refuse to let me hold on. You make it hard on purpose and you make it impossible to leave. You reel me in and push me away and you slap the door only to leave it unlocked. You look straight into my eyes only to break away the contact and you brush past my hands only to remind me what it was.
You seep into my skin only to settle down but never going deeper than skin. You used to make up my bones and every fibre of me.
Now you sit in my skin and keep me wondering.
Here I Stand. Relaying my words to you, reading out my story to you. Here I stand. Writing down all the words that I have ever known and all the stories that these two eyes have seen and all of the hearts that these two hands have held and all of the tears that have been shed from these eyes into these hands and have brushed against crumbled skirts and loose sleeves and have been shed for once and for all; never again.
Here I lay, beneath the open sky and on a patch of grass that isn’t the greenest. Here I lay and here I lay to tell you that the worse is yet to come and the best is always looming behind it. Here I lay to tell you that no matter what colour the grass is, as long you’re laying on it and you’re laying long enough to tell your story, You are enough. That is all that matters.
Here I sprint. Sprint away from all that has ever haunted me and all that will forever take away from me and all that has little bits and pieces of me and all that owns me. Here, I run away from them onto a place which accepts my broken and incomplete self because all that is broken does not need mending but healing. And all that is shattered will rise from the deepest browns of the earth and will fall upon you from the highest realms of these skies.
Here I fly, fly into the starry sky which has never once failed to awe me. These starry skies are my kryptonite and I shall never ask of you to come with me but if you may, my hand is held open and my heart’s doors always creak open for you.
Here I stop. Stop right in front of you and stop only for a brief moment. I ask you, “Are you here? Are you alive? Do you feel your heart racing and your body tingling and your ears thrumming with the beats of a new tomorrow? Does your mind say yes to your body? Do you want to get out of here? Do you want to go up up and away?”
Here I wait, Not for long, but I shall patiently and keenly wait for the greatest question of them all, “Here I am before you, Am I enough?”
“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. “
I felt a sudden sinking sensation, I always did, at around 2:09 am. The end seemed very plausible and very close at this time. The sky is always dark and these days, the moon doesn’t face my balcony which only adds to my suspicion.
I can see it, I can constantly see my life passing by. Its always flashing past me and I am witnessing it as I’m living it, as twisted and interstellar like that may be. I constantly feel like I’m not doing enough to make this count.. that my remains will account for nothing but a name. There are times when I want to scream and bang and yell and jump up and down until the whole neighbourhood is awake and i have somehow marked a day in their lives and in mine.. kind of etching myself into everyone’s lives.. for one fleeting moment. Something so big and momentous or tiny and miniscule.. something that captures the essence of being here. Something that is unabashedly me and that calls my name. Something that would make my friends shake their heads with smiles on their faces and say “Only she, only She would do something like this” and for everyone else who wasn’t my friend; get them wondering.
Yes, this seems very Augustus Waters like but I don’t understand whats so wrong in wanting to be remembered and making an effort in order to do so. Leaving a mark is essential and not all of get a chance to.
And is where Hazel would interject (somehow, only profound things came to her) “Am I not enough? Is leaving a mark on me not enough?”
I waited. I waited outside the parking lot of that old convenience store, the one where there was always that old,red, beat up truck parked, that hadn’t been moved in ages; thats where I waited. I waited there until dawn and then a little bit more after that. I waited until I knew inmy heart of hearts that this was an ending of some sorts.. and also the beginning of something different. Something that would shake the very core of being. Something that will take hold of me and shake things up around here because I didnt realize how much time I spent wandering around these little niblets of you. Every room I entered, I looked for you or at least traces of you. Every sound that I heard, I waited for that crackle that your laugh always made. My eyes and ears and nose were friendly and quite aware of your presence in the room and in your absence.. they too went a little dormant. So I waited. Everywhere I went, I ended up waiting. And nothing was different about that night.
I waited where we had decided that I would wait for you and I knew that this was going to be one of those big, gigantic moments in life which were going to define us in more than one way. It seemed like one of those big moments where you knew they were big even before they happened., and that was so beautiful. And I waited to be defined by you during this moment and you did.. you actually did define me in that moment where you decided to not show up. You defined me as somebody who was heartbroken and in love and was left to pick his pieces up, all of them; even the ones that he didn’t like and walk away. You defined me as someone who; no matter how awful the situation, would walk away from a toxic relationship. This was toxic not because you didn’t show up that night but it was toxic because somehow I always wound up waiting for you and you somehow never showed up. You always kept me waiting and I always waited.
In that moment, you defined me as someone who walked awwy. Who put an end to the waiting and finally, FINALL Y walked away from a lifetime’s worth of waiting and not saying anything about it. So, Thanks for yet another defining moment.
It may not seem like a lot, but I think about you. I think about you even when I shouldn’t and I honestly think about you a whole lot. Not in a creepy way, but in the kind of way where I can spend my whole day thinking about you and still not run out of things to think about; in the kind of way which is Consuming. just imagining the little details about your face or all of your moles or just the way that you are constantly laughing with all of your mouth just gaping open and for the world to see, making the whole room laugh around you and if you are going to live, Live in a way that is going to effect everyone around you.. live so that others have a reason to as well and live a whole and true life just for yourself.
And if you ever read this and if you ever find that you are thinking about me too, even in the slightest bit or even in the tiniest little thing that you come across in the street, then please don’t be a coward like me. please don’t just stare and wait for some hurricane to swing us into each other’s arms. Please don’t be me when you can be you and you can come and say that you think my shirt is cool or that hey, have you listened to Bastille’s take on the Scrubs or anything, but if you ever see what I do between the two of us and if I am too late by then, then please by all means, go ahed and do what I couldn’t and do what I have always wanted to.
I’ll see you at the beginning;
In between stolen glances and words which were mine even before you uttered them. Where your gorgeous eyes were only looking for mine. Somewhere in between the slight brushing of the hands and the times where I would go back home and hold my hand against my heart and hear the loudest beats. Somewhere in between the words unsaid and the smiles that were intended for me and me only.
I’ll see you somewhere in my dreams where you would lay next to me and hold my hand and make me feel like all the stars in the sky were ours and the light from them was enough to keep us alive. And in that moment we felt like conquerers, where all of the world was ours and we were enough for all of its might. In that moment, your hand was all the power I needed to feel like that no unknown was scarier to break us down.
I will see you somewhere, where all the songs were about you and all the words reminded me of you and your gorgeous hair and the feeling where my heart actually felt like it had left my body and was floating above in the sky and had left me down here to deal with the chaotic mess that I so often was around you. I’ll see you somewhere, some where distant, somewhere far away from here, somewhere where we know no one and no one knows us. Of the past that we had or the life that we want to have. Somewhere where I sing in the morning and you hold my hand and dance with me. Somewhere, where our eyes meet and we instantly smile because this is it and somehow even though it shouldn’t be, you were my first and you were enough and I was enough for you.
But right now, you are yours and I am mine and we aren’t enough anymore.. We will take a while to get there, to be there, to find or way into the walls of the house that we may someday have, Into the wooden floors and the glass windows… We’ll get there soon. Just not now.
He sighed, exasperated after multiple trials and exhausted after no new discoveries from her part. She was getting harder to read, or maybe he was just getting more timid by the day. Who could blame him? She was too much to take in and every new discovery left him faded.
He tried once more. “What are you so afraid of? I’m here and I will always be here. Why can’t you see that?”
She looked at him long and hard. Then sighed. Looked down at her hands and start fiddling with her hair, never meeting his eyes. “I’m scared of everything. I’m scared of the rush and the pleasure. I’m afraid of not ever being able to love after you. I’m scared that I’ll give you too much.. all of it and when you leave, I’ll have none of me and everything of you and you’ll have all of me and all of you. How am I supposed to ever move past that? How am i ever supposed to pick myself back up and move forward and search for future endeavours? How am I ever supposed to go ahead and start new adventures and find new loves?”
She was almost crying. He ran towards her and enveloped her his my arms. “Why do you say ‘when’ I leave? Who said that I’m leaving? I’m not going anywhere. I’m here and I will take all of you and you will take all of me and we will both have way too much of either one of us and that is how we will live.”
2 years since, he had left, without any explanation.
They always leave.