I feel like I'm baring my soul with this and I'm exposing too much. I rarely am comfortable with letting others in. I hide it all.
It wasn’t magical, there were no sparks as such but it was real. My head was filled with the fantasy-coloured opinion on how love would be, how it would feel to be in love, how I would know that I was in love. It wasn’t anything I thought it would be, yet it had everything I hoped to feel; the only thing was I had to watch love go away to realize that ‘this’ what I was feeling, this numbness inside, the paleness on the face and the tears brimming my eyes were signs of a heartbreak.
This was a gentle sort of love, the kind that slowly builds. It was something I felt, but having never felt like this before, I didn’t know what is was. I put it down to possessiveness and proximity and dependency and a million other things, yet I could never explain why I was happier when you were around, why I was so conscious and shy when you were around, why I aligned myself to mirror you, why I looked out, after and towards you, why your opinions mattered, why it used to upset me to see you upset, why I cried every time we fought and why every time I reached out to sort it out.
I cannot find another reason to explain that need to be around you constantly. It filled my heart with so much joy, yet I never recognized it. Sometimes, I think I did, but I quelled every thought that sprung in that direction. I ran from love, I ran from you. I realized it, when it was time to wish you joy, when the wetness on my face was from the tears pouring from my eyes, and the incomprehensible listlessness that followed me everywhere was the ache caused by the inevitable grieving of my broken heart. My face may have been serene, there may have been laughter even, but I cried inside, far away from prying eyes.
It took so much pain, to feel love at last. But I have no regrets. For you gave me love, you brought me to love.
