shefelt_it_everyday

He spied me sitting cross-legged on the floor. I spied the remorse in his eyes as he rounded the corner.
 

When he reached me, he bent down on my level, sitting cross-legged as if he was my mirror. Without a word his fingers grazed my cheek and erased all of the pain I had let go. He brushed my hair behind my ear, barely touching my forehead as he did so in the off chance I would recoil.

Still in silence, he stood and extended his hand to me.

He waited for me to put my hand into his and forgive him. Surprising myself, I did. Palm-to-palm, I wrapped my fingers around his and allowed him to pull me up.

“I’m here,” he said, and that was all that I needed.

There is beauty in death
For there is beauty in birth

It's an ugly beauty
of untaken chances
and defeat in the ultimate battle

Atfer years of not letting up,
Finally some peace of mind;
Finally at rest.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm bound to be alone forever.
Am I bound to my words
     and only my words for the rest of time?
If that's the case, what a lonely life I have ahead of me.

I. I am, I am,
     I am not.
You. You aren't, you aren't,
     but you are.
I see, I see, I wish
     I didn't.
You don't, you don't, you think
    you see.

It's all, it's all, it's all.
    but.
There's more, there's more, there's more
To me, to me, to me. And you,
I could say the same about you.

I miss you so much, even though we talk everyday.
You're not the same, and I can't seem to get you to see the truth.

I was looking for one last goodbye
One last chance to share
to share the air, you and me

Now that it's fallen into my lap,
where do I begin?
I was looking toward answers
answers to lead me to closure

Closure is no longer my goal
Neither is acceptance
Part of me wants it all back
But the other part,

I was looking for one last goodbye
one last chance to make everything okay
to make everything okay, you and me

Now there is time for one last goodbye

New story idea:
He pulls up to the school, and she stops talking. The rides to school are never silent, but once they are at school, silence fills the car like a waterfall fills a lake. She doesn't really get it, but it's just routine. She doesn't want the rides to end. She just wants to be with him. It doesn't matter if they talk. It doesn't matter if they don't talk. She feels stronger around him. When this arrangement started, she told him that she would be inconspicuous about riding with him because she thought that is what he would want. He agreed. Because he thought that is what she wanted. Neither really cares. They only care about what the other one wants.

They don't get out of the car at the same time. They don't walk side-by-side up to the school. She gets out and goes on; he watches her walk away-inconspicuously, of course. He wants to be by her side, but she just is broken beyond repair. He will talk about trivial things to her just to keep her entertained. He loves to see a smile on her face, no matter what it takes to put it there.

I don't know who I am anymore. Who is this person that I have become?