There was this one night where the stars reflected their light in the opposite direction, sucking all the light away from earth, and casting it out into the universe.
That was the night we walked together, hands clasped loosely and hearts sewn tightly together. We were quiet at first, trying to figure out what the other was thinking, even though we would much rather be surprised by eachothers actions.
The roads around us were like the boundaries of a large playground. It was too dark to play, and there were no swings to keep our attention. We sat in the damp earth, and played with eachothers fingers as if anxious to be let free. Yet freedom was the last thing we could handle. We had only just begun this feeling of entrapment in each others' personalities.
I could tell as I looked in your eyes that there was something missing in your life. I could not fill the void that I had created, even though that was my goal all along. I had lost you somewhere along that long journey through our problems, and I was too far along to turn back.
Suddenly the silence began to hurt me like a shot aimed right at my xyphoid process. I tried to speak yet my words were stunted by my failing diaphragm, which was frozen in place by the imaginary bullet.
Your eyes cast outward, taking in all the silence and sleepy life below us. The lights of the business buildings glittered, but we always agreed that they looked so much prettier when you blurred your eyes a little.
Then I noticed in my paralyzed state that you were blurring your eyes at me all long. You blinded yourself with the mesh-screen vision that other peoples' words had created in front of you. All along you had no idea who I was, or how much I loved you.
When I recovered from my shock, you were gone. Gone, just like the rest of them, and hopeless, too.
And where my hand had loosely held yours the night before, now was replaced by your brown and green plaid scarf. The same scarf that had always looked so appealing to my neck, only wrapped tighter to cut off all oxygen intake.
That was the night we walked together, hands clasped loosely and hearts sewn tightly together. We were quiet at first, trying to figure out what the other was thinking, even though we would much rather be surprised by eachothers actions.
The roads around us were like the boundaries of a large playground. It was too dark to play, and there were no swings to keep our attention. We sat in the damp earth, and played with eachothers fingers as if anxious to be let free. Yet freedom was the last thing we could handle. We had only just begun this feeling of entrapment in each others' personalities.
I could tell as I looked in your eyes that there was something missing in your life. I could not fill the void that I had created, even though that was my goal all along. I had lost you somewhere along that long journey through our problems, and I was too far along to turn back.
Suddenly the silence began to hurt me like a shot aimed right at my xyphoid process. I tried to speak yet my words were stunted by my failing diaphragm, which was frozen in place by the imaginary bullet.
Your eyes cast outward, taking in all the silence and sleepy life below us. The lights of the business buildings glittered, but we always agreed that they looked so much prettier when you blurred your eyes a little.
Then I noticed in my paralyzed state that you were blurring your eyes at me all long. You blinded yourself with the mesh-screen vision that other peoples' words had created in front of you. All along you had no idea who I was, or how much I loved you.
When I recovered from my shock, you were gone. Gone, just like the rest of them, and hopeless, too.
And where my hand had loosely held yours the night before, now was replaced by your brown and green plaid scarf. The same scarf that had always looked so appealing to my neck, only wrapped tighter to cut off all oxygen intake.
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and I make the best PB&J sandwiches.