heylorel
"I refuse, I refuse, I refuse..." I repeated over and over again in my head while biting back tears so hard that I soon tasted blood upon my tongue. I had loved you for much too long already and I had had enough of gorging myself on the suffering it bred. I was attempting to refuse to love you, but in reality, I only refused to let go. Turning to look at your sleeping form beside me, I touched your perfect lips and realized that I was the textbook definition of hopelessly in love.
I thought all along that you were as essential as oxygen to my survival, to my making it in this world, to my ever fleeting happiness. I knew realistically that I would not physically die without you, but it wasn't a corporeal death I feared; I feared that the light in me would slowly splutter out and all the good in me would burn away if you were to not be there anymore. I feared the death of my soul. Like air, I breathed you in with desperate rapture and blue lips, for you were carbon monoxide and I had already lost my soul with you before I could even know.
I am half. Incomplete, an unfinished project maybe. I thought I saw a half in you and a void in need of filling; I rushed and stumbled to you so as to catch your porcelain soul from shattering upon the pavement because I knew you were the half I wanted to make me whole. There was no act of love that could get me close enough to you, though I tried, tried, tried... Then one day you decided you wanted to be a reluctant half alone again and I let you go, wild thing. But I will have you know, I would stay a half for the rest of my days if it would make you whole.
An event such as this should have been a happy one, she thought as she absently rubbed the tip of her thumb across the martini glass, but all she felt was emptiness. Watching the two lovers dance and seeing the sparkle of the hanging lights in their eyes reminded her of what she never had and wanted so greatly. She desired the greatest gift humanity had to offer; the gift of pure, unadulterated emotional connection. A gaze filled with love, a touch bursting with meaning. Something of significance in a meaningless nine to five life of disorganized meetings and partially drank coffees. As the last swallow of vodka slid down her throat with its signature burn, she thought maybe some people were born to suffer.
A concept you were, so perfectly woven together with best case scenarios and hypnotic charm; your eyes so bright that I could barely stand to look at them. You are only as real to me as the thoughts drifting through my mind like fall leaves in autumn. You are fire tearing through a forest, you are the worm at the bottom of the Tequila bottle, you are a raspberry on my tongue, you are the water dripping down my thighs. You are, you are, you are everything.