Everytime my footsteps reach a crossroads where you seem to have been waiting patiently, knowing I would eventually get there, I get something back and at the same time I lose another little bit of myself. I got back almost my entire soul, but I relinquished half of my heart. I recovered my green sweater, but forgot my hoop earrings on your nightstand. It’s never a conscious act, but a part of me must know what it’s doing, it must want to remain close to you at all costs. Even if that means simply forgetting a piece of clothing or a girly accessory in your room, in your bag, in your pocket.
I’m educating my heart. It’s learning not to shed tears when bruised. But I’m terrified that it might also be learning not to love anymore at the intensity and madness of a sky dive. Maybe if for once I received from you more than what I give with each breath and with each thought. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel like my heart’s getting smaller and smaller by the second.
I remember when you held me in your arms and you begged me not to cry anymore. It was breaking your heart not knowing how to make the sadness go away. You couldn’t. Only I could and only I can. Now I have smiles and giggles to offer you. Will you take them? I have sunshine in my eyes. Will you let it light your way? Will you smile back when noticing my sweater on your armchair the next time you wake up? Or when dipping you hands in your pockets and discovering my earrings there?