Night bears down on a crumpled, bedraggled city, and the
inhabitants retreat inside their houses, withdrawing like snails into their shells.
You believed that you were so powerful, so invincible, wandering the night like a
sleep-starved creature, anything but human. You took a gulp of that burning,
acrid tasting alcohol, and not once did you think of me. You didn’t think of the little
girl who lay awake in her tiny bedroom, eyes wide and staring in the face of her fears.
You were not always gone at night. Sometimes you were there, and the whole
house seemed to hold its breath. Sometimes I would call for you,
tentatively, to ask if I could maybe stay awake a little longer in this effervescent night. The
answer was never no, because there never was an answer. You would stay awake all night,
and when I rose in the morning, shadows underneath my eyes where the tears once pooled,
you were sleeping like a baby, deep inside the haven crafted by your lies.
I don’t think you were ever crazy. I think you were selfish and deceitful, but I could never
bring myself to hate you for it, because I always loved you. I loved your laugh when
you held me up to look at the fireworks. I held my breath when you shouted
because it meant I would get to hear your voice. It took me years to find you,
and when I finally did it seemed that I didn’t mind when your replies to my heartfelt
calls never made any sense. I didn’t mind, because I loved you.
Now winter has come, and a layer of snow covers the ground the way icing sugar
covers a cupcake. I can’t help but feel as if we’re inside a snow-globe. There
can only be so much space in a snow-globe world; at least, that’s what I used to
think. It used to bring me hope because I believed that sooner or later, you’d have to find
me, and you wouldn’t be able to ignore me then. I should have known better. It doesn’t matter;
no, it never mattered that I came from you, or that I am half of you. It never mattered
to you. And although we live in a snow-globe world, it doesn’t mean that we’ll ever have
to find each other. Even if we do, you won’t have to speak. I give you permission to
remain silent, the way there’s not a word from you right now, and the place where
you once were when I was young is now filled with something black and dark and unknown.
I welcome this mysterious, invisible substance into me, because I know that it will help
me forget. Oh, I say this now; I say that you can keep ignoring me, but
the fact remains that I miss you.
I always have.
I always will.
Gender:
Points: 244
Reviews: 152