There were no sighs, just a jumble of facts, screaming absolute, definite failures in my ears. Maybe you were there, your beauty and the way you knew me inside out, how every single piece of me seemed to fit with you. How your fingers were perfect in mine, the clasp forever and always. How you didnt seem to mind slipping your hands around my waist, or sniffing my hair. How you loved to sleep on my lap, or lay down on my chest, with your head under my chin.
I miss those times where I used my laptop at night and feel your cheek grazing mine, a strong muscular hand on my shoulder, gently flicking your finger through the wisps of my hair. Sometimes, when in the dead of the night with no words, there were no discomforts or awkwardness, no need to speak to feel as if we belonged.
The last time words were exchange, things completely changed. Nothing was the same. The feelings, the moments. And then the beauty slowly slips away, leaving you empty in your shell of hardened ego, no more than a kiss upon your skin, or the smell that lingers on your lips. It was lost, maybes are just another way to tempt fate, the millions who doubted what they did in the past.
No apologies.
The word writhes in the air, searching for someone who dared to chance upon this challenge, the first who decides to give in to the other. Soon, the feelings die away, and the hands are just tools for everyday things. The lips are to part for thirst, the comfort only in sleep. The bravery shrinking into the tiniest of pieces, the memory a past, the sorrow high in the air, the discomfort consuming all passion.
What once was the most beautiful things ever imagine was reduced to ash in a matter of moments. And in the course of time, over days, months, years. We then realize when we want it back the most, it will never appear again.
Nicole (:
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