For The Love Of Nothingness

I had closed my eyes and smoked out my feelings for an hour in hopes of coming up with some kind of reasoning behind how my feelings seemed to sway between burning love and fiery hatred for you.

There was something about the sweet cold nights that awakened me into a new state of mind. I had hoped that the winter would pass and I would feel some sort of heated relief wash over me like summer rays dancing on lakes, streams and rivers. The night was filled with booming sounds of soft winds banging against trees and windows assuring me that the cold was here to stay.

I had never loved the cold as it reminded me of all the things I had missed out on or maybe I hated it because it pointed out my isolation and loneliness. I had placed another blanket over my body as to weigh me down into a state of imagined comfort.

I had thought about calling you but the words had fallen like leaves off of autumn trees. I had all the ideas written out completely, I was prepared beyond measure. Yet I found myself screaming in hopelessness. I knew that you could never understand or worse off you’d laugh at all I had to say, making my feelings some kind of ridiculous joke.

You had always known where you were going well I seemed to be wondering down a spiral of confusion. I hope you knew that I waited for you to notice me. That cold November morning that you were sick and couldn’t get much done. I sat outside your home and waited for you to see that I had sorted out all the things that you hadn’t thought about.

I sat there for hours waiting for you, hoping you’d see me but you looked right through. Like I was a homeless person taking space that you needed.

I had thought of you so highly that when you broke me I kept up pretenses because I couldn’t believe that you, a ball of light could be my black-hole. Now I know I waited for nothing as you are nothing but an idea of what I had imagined into existence.

Your perfect skin and perfect smile were nothing more than my mind hoping for some sort of happiness in your empty warmth.

People say that humans can’t live without a burning flame or warming comfort but you had made it so that I knew first hand just how harsh the world could be.

The saddest part of this whole affair was that I reveled in your empty gestures and parlor-tricks. I fell in love with things that you had never spoken as if your silence indicated so much more than you could manage to muster from within your soul.

Our premature love affair had left me spiraling through winter as I searched for relief. I think I had known that I looked up to you so much that I had turned you into a marble statue of perfection. I carved you and trimmed you out into a being that never occupied time and space. My heart and mind had raced past the starting point and never stopped searching for you, even past the finish line.

Yet I had always known that my high treatment of you would never be something that you could reciprocate because you never truly knew me. I was the girl who watched in silence waiting for you to say something.

via Premature

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