I thought we were perfect once. That we could balance
each other out, that I would give you the inspiration you crave
and you would give me the peace I am so desperate for. But maybe
we’re not meant for each other. You’re not my type and I’m
not your type and so why are we back here again?We took a break
for a year. We avoided each other, barely spoke. I avoided your
places, your haunts, even your friends. I took a backstep in my
own life, returned to old habits and lost my desire for others
because some nights, all I could think about was you. I wanted
you, even when you desperately wanted someone else. And it
wasn’t just that kind of romantic love - it was the kind of
love where we could talk to each other about anything, be happy
in silence, be happy with nothing.And I loved you, even though
each time you answered my questions I felt like my heart was
breaking. I couldn’t keep the scraps of me together and instead
I let them aside, and parts of me were lost too. Why do I let you
have so much of me? I give you so much leeway, we both knew it.
So why do you keep sabotaging this, even just the threads of our
friendship?Why do you want to irrevocably destroy who I am,
destroy the parts of me that make me who I am, make me feel like
I am not worthy of anything? Somedays I blame you and somedays I
can’t because I can’t help but feel you’re right. That I
don’t deserve anything more than to be destroyed. I keep
thinking and thinking. I don’t know what lies next. I want you
and I don’t. I want us to be friends, to lean on each other.
But sometimes I think I want more. To try this idea of dating,
this question that hovers between us, that prevents us from being
just friends. What is this whisper that our bodies seem to give
around each other? There’s a question that lies in the air
between us, a thought that we can never really put away. You have
anxiety around me. I have anxiety around you.But sometimes I
wonder if anxiety and desire are one and the same.That we could
be it for each other. I wonder if we could last if we got through
this. Or if we would just end in heartbreak, both in pieces that
we can’t re-build. Why can’t we be friends with exes? Why can
we not say that the part of our lives where we in love with each
other is over, and that now we are just happy to be friends?This
is a slow love story. And the ending is still in question. Maybe
it has a happy ending. Maybe it doesn’t. I wish I
knew.
"though she be little, she is fierce"
Act 3, Scene 2 from A Midsummer Night's Dream
Act 3, Scene 2 from A Midsummer Night's Dream
𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕺𝖋 𝕹𝖔𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊
𝓗𝓸𝔀 𝓭𝓸𝓮𝓼 𝓲𝓽 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓭𝓲𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓶𝓮?𝓐𝓻𝓮 𝔀𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓪𝓶𝓮?𝓗𝓸𝔀 𝓭𝓸𝓮𝓼 𝓲𝓽 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵?
𝓘'𝓶
𝓽𝓲𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓸𝓯 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝔀𝓪𝔂
𝓘'𝓶
𝓪 𝓭𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷
𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮
𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽
𝓢𝓱𝓮'𝓼 𝓪𝓷
𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵
𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮
𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓽𝓮
