I’ve just checked out some pictures a friend of mine had posted. Whew. So many memories. Too much drama. I remember another person. I remember that one night, in my distant past.
Some people witnessed the other side of me that had always been hidden. I ran around laughing and screaming. Someone held my hand to direct me. I fell down on my knees at that most random moment. I wasn’t ready for that night to end.
The song played. We listened to it. With every note, it pierced my heart and gave an unfamiliar ache. The man on the guitar said that I was beautiful. The person made me feel that it was true. I was held even closer and I found myself smiling more.
That night was fucking cute. That night was fucking sweet. That night was fucking ideal.
The next morning, tears fell from my eyes. My stare was different, became more conscious of my actions and from such consciousness, I resisted making swift decisions.
I desired for a different thing; walking home with the person, laughing and teasing about what happened. As much as I enjoyed the night, my independence ended as well.
I felt it. I was ready to fall in love again, the feeling that I’ve resisted for so long. No, not with that person, but with someone else.
Ever since, I knew what I wanted. I wanted to be the world to someone but the rules will always be tough.
I’ve completely lost the person. But I found someone who made me realize that I’m capable of falling in love and putting my soul into it.
Right now, I believe, I am someone different. I’ve become more focused and independent. No more emptiness. I have grown.
Love is easier when you really care.
