I sucked at writing before, my love, and I still don’t write well
But now, I’ve got words inside me
so many words
waiting to be poured out like a waterfall, to be let out from behind an invisible barrier acting as a dam
to be said.
We were a crescendo, building up very fast
so very fast
I was afraid and wanted to slow down but it wasn’t possible, was it? We fell into each other and I wondered if you’d catch me before I crash.
But you were right there, arms outstretched, giving me faith and belief.
Every laugh of yours, every touch gave me chills and made blood flow through my veins newly
As if I was discovering myself for the first time as I was discovering you
As you were coveting me
I smile, remembering our first moments together
And others in between
Small memories which bring a flutter of happiness from inside me even though I’m sitting alone in my room
Which make me blush while walking in busy streets
Which make me turn pink for the first time when my friends tease me
We were a crescendo of notes and words, making such music
Somehow, almost at the top, we halted for a minute
And came back down.
Spiraled down, our hands losing grip
All I could hear was the wind as it went past us, as we fell back in such a fast pace
A few minutes was all it took
A few messages
A few said words
And just like that we were two again.
I keep wondering what went wrong, how we went from talking all day long one day and breaking up the next
I still wonder why you brought it up, darling
I make excuses and reasons on your behalf in my head but I suppose I will never know
Our music stopped in the middle of a short note
Abrupt enough to put me into shock for a while
But it doesn’t matter anymore
None of my hurt or thoughts matter because you are happy
You are happy, and I guess it’s because of her
I feel glad to see you smile and laugh and not cracked inside like me
But the crack inside me opens up just a bit more every time I see you two together
Every time I find a glimpse of how we were
Every time you hold her hand
hug her tight
put your arm over her shoulder
And I just turn away
unable to bear it but unable to say anything about the metaphorical band-aids I try to stick onto the cracks on my heart
In the end, maybe I should thank you
For making words bubble up inside me again
To want to pour out
you won’t ever find a trace of them.