Fiction and Fairytales

I wanted to say I love you and goodbye at the same time.

The moonlight peaked in and hit her skin as I tried to numb my brain by slipping inside of her.

It wasn’t enough that she was beautiful, hell maybe it was too much. She spoke with confidence that my charm could not shake.

But she was letting me in. Telling me those things, that kept her awake at night. That made her fall behind at work. Daydreams of the past.

I listen with eager ears. And an open heart. I can’t help that I already love her. I can’t help that I will eventually leave her.

My own daydreams don’t leave my lips. My tongue will not allow it. And if anyone asks I tell them with a smile that we don’t need to talk about it.

When I’m alone. I let my hands connect with pencils and allow them to take over sheets of whatever is around.

Blank spaces that quickly become covered with memories.

The kind that I can now erase. At least I can on paper.

She is one of who knows how many. Lovers that I love but can’t hold on to. Maybe don’t want to.

My friends say that I’m just too preoccupied. They don’t realize that I’ve always been this way. I seem to do distracted the best.

Say don’t ever let me go. And I’ll tell you I won’t. And I mean that I won’t. But we won’t always have nights like these. Where we are so wrapped and entwined that your thoughts are blurred with mine.

You hair covers my face. My hands scan your body and I’m left wondering maybe I could not let you go.

But the intention was never to make this a contest. Love should not be about who can hold on the longest.

And because you leave or because I beat you to it doesn’t necessarily mean that we ever stopped the actual act the actual depth of love.

It means so many things. It means that we are human beings. It means that we didn’t want to turn into our parents.

God. We don’t want to turn into our parents.

So you can leave me.

Or we can try this thing out. Just please don’t slam doors and throw words of hate when this amazing meal has become overwhelming and your taste buds are sick of the taste.

I mean what I say. But there are many times where my mind doesn’t reach my mouth the way I want it to. I can’t tell you my daydreams because they can’t be translated into words.

I can’t tell you fully about my past because so much of it just seems like archived photographs.

And there are nights that I wish I could take a flame to and light. I’ll take the burn marks instead.

You don’t lose someone when they die. You lose yourself. Whatever way you had convinced yourself was up is now completely contrived.

Life is the ride that you never chose to get on to. But fight the longest to hold on to.

And that’s what I’m saying when I hold you. Your life lights up mine. And I hope mine does that for yours too.

But it’s life that I have no idea how to keep.

So I stay restless. And I sit down for meal after meal an indulge myself in whatever I can get my hands on to.

She told me she loved me. For years on end. But then life told her it was time to rest. So those in her life could become wrecks. What’s done and done.

And though you’re never actually alone. You can’t help but constantly feel that way.

If you were a sweater you would constantly be needing yarn. Except it would always be tangled. And you would always be worn.

Everything does come to an end. But I’m not so sure that has to be such a daunting statement. I met you and her and you and we made something. We created.

A fairy tale is what someone else told you was a dream. But you create those yourself. The nightmares too.

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