Beyond Lines: I'm Not Crying, You Are

By

Literature) 

I used to dream of the day he'd say that he loves me. It'd be sincere, like rain plummeting onto dry soil. It'd be soft, like a hymn sung between chapel walls. Intentional, like poetry. Intricate, like the pulse that beats for him. My soil was met with drought and fortitude crumbled beneath silence. There was never intention, only substance, but nothing substantial. 

I'm Not Crying, You Are:

You saw the tears but didn't notice

how my love bled into despondence.

Did you look back as you were leaving?

Or was cremating my heart just that easy?


You once said I'm your new beginning,

but I'm still at the airport waiting

for you to tell me that you love me.

I reminisce about a kiss that never happened.


Slam the car door—

you in my arms—

the beat of my heart—

I'm not crying, you are. 


You denied my right to certainty

and sentenced me to three months of unease. 

The price I pay for making you my priority—

How can I live in the moment when you've caged me to question? 


So I slam the car door—

my head in my arms. 

Goodbye shouldn't be this hard. 

I'm not crying, you are.


Our disheartened farewell—your foreign hand.

The penalty of loving a simplistic man. 

What did I do to deserve this? 

How can you walk away from a besotted elegist? 

He's still at the airport, waiting.

Just fucking say that you love him. 

I'm still at the airport thinking, 

"why doesn't he love me?"


Terminal)

Two years and countless faces later, I can still recall the night I held him last. He was in my arms but absent all the same. His flight was at 6:30 that morning, it would be 2,000 miles between us for three months. I resented the distance while he lay indifferent. It was as if my world was drifting away from me, into some faraway orbit. I'm sure there's a term for that—one he would know as both an astronomy major and close friend of space. 


Turbulence) 

As I drove him to the airport, I felt each feeling on his behalf. I knew I had enough for both of us. I parked, his hand twined with my own, where I watched—no, where I felt him withdraw from me. Maybe the moment was too real for his liking. He trembles before stillness as I quake at the foot of desertion. Only now do I realize that those who have been abandoned often repel closeness. Intimacy imperils attachment and attachment imperils loss. It is safe to pull away from what makes you most vulnerable. 

 

Falling) 

That's the thing about walls—you keep the varmint out while simultaneously making yourself occluded from love. To veil yourself from latent dolor is dolor all the same. I said "I love you" at the risk of non-reciprocity and received "I'm never going to love you" in return. In three months' time, he returned. Two weeks later, it was over. I spiraled. I quivered. I cried. I shattered frames. I starved my body. But never once did I regret the love I gave. 


Finality) 

My soil was met with drought. Could it be drought that taught my heart how to rain? To pour into another the vitality I don't have? Is it silence that gave me my voice? By his negligence did I learn to nurture? I've come to the conclusion that experience without ascension is just another moment passed. If I could go back to that morning, I wouldn't think "why doesn't he love me?" Instead, I would ask myself how I ever rationalized my love for him. 

Popular Posts

Beyond Lines: Is This What It Means To Fall In Love?

By
  Literature)  To cry an array of tears in demonstration. To feel my heart splinter like a wishbone never wished upon. To think you the sky and me a beggar—to see you that way; with eyes like a typhoon, crying for you. This  is what it means to fall in love but never reside in it.  Is This What It Means To Fall In Love?: Roses are dead, violets too. I'm everything but enough for you. My head says leave and I know it's right, but my heart tells me to give it time. So I go through every goddamn motion and be the man I wish I had. I tell myself that you're worth it. My tears, my time, everything I have. You'll be the first to leave, 'cause I'm too weak to walk out your dorm and end things with you. I'm the only one with something to lose. Is this what it means to fall in love? I broke my heart to make you happy. Piece by piece but it means nothing. I can't cry without feeling guilty. Is this what it means to fall in love? I could be the love of your life....
Read more

Beyond Lines: All For Nothing

By
Literature)  I had a dream that after two years apart, I was really with him again. In this dream, I had written a song that captured the pain I had borne for months on end—keeping my relationship, for lack of a better term, a secret; that lingering sadness that I could never be the girl of his dreams. The complexity. The disclosure that he liked girls, but he loved me. Upon waking up, the melody stayed with me in the way he never would.  All For Nothing: I held you like a grudge. I tried to be enough. Every moment, I kept us a secret all for nothing. I'm healing a heart I didn't break. I'm fixing a mess I didn't make. You don't appreciate the way I always put you first. I take all the hurt and bear it on my own, and you don't even notice that you're not the only one that wants to be loved. You were everything I wanted and even though I shouldn't, I'm still in love with you. There's a painful kind of silence, the kind that only happens when there...
Read more

Beyond Lines: A Perfect Penumbra

By
  Literature)  There was a time that I lived for the affirmation of my peers. Did they appreciate me? Was I present and attentive enough? Did they love me the way I sought? Did I perform well? How many views did my latest post get? Am I standing out enough ? I soon realized that my happiness had become dependent on these things and it was killing  me.   A Perfect Penumbra: I'm the brightest star in your sky. I burn for you, do you see me? Are you happy now that a piece of me is gone? The part of me that loves you is the part of me that lives. Your eyes are moonstone, limned with aurora. Show me your shadow, a perfect penumbra. You're the eclipse to my crescent moon. The bloodstain on my heart, somber maroon. Your eyes are moonstone, limned with aurora. Show me your shadow, a perfect penumbra. I'm falling in love with your perfect penumbra. Convince ) As it is written, he's straight  and has a girlfriend . And still, I managed to convince both of us that we ...
Read more