rarzasaur
The wintry wind sent chills down her spin, raising the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck while she sat on the front porch steps. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stay warm while she waited for him to come. That was what her life consisted of: moments of waiting. Different goals, different people. Always waiting.
Brush your hand against a feeling, just enough to feel the heart beat beneath the surface. Take your hand back, step away. Don't get attached, don't get emotional. Don't think. Walk away, let it go, release the moment. The brevity of lifespans, the shortness of breath. Let it go.
Keep it brief. Tell the story of hellos and goodbyes, of fights and make-ups, of tears and laughter, of chaos and order, of victory and strife, of hand touches and first kisses. In a matter of minutes. Thousands of moments in a matter of seconds. Keep it brief.
The sun was rising over the train station, but I wouldn't stay to see it reflect off the gleaming metallic tops. I was going to board that train, sit in the car as it sped across the country -- far from everything I ever knew, a cleansing of the mind freeing me from the hell hole of remembering a different memory every time I walked around the corner.
"I know."
Meaning? What. You know that I cried every night for five months, you know that my hands shake when I text you, you know that my knees are weak and my voice keeps cracking because I'm terrified you hate me? Or you know, and don't really care?