Forum:
Sometimes I catch myself thinking about you. In fact, saying "sometimes" is almost an understatement of what truly happens in my mind regarding you, because I think of you frequently, and how much I miss you, how much I wish you had stayed, and how much I want to take care of you. Honestly, I no longer know what to do with all these thoughts. Maybe I should put them in a book, or perhaps in a movie. When I remember the shadow of your green eyes, your way of... looking... Sometimes I think that all I really want is to be able to see through your eyes for all eternity, to find comfort in just looking, even if I can’t properly touch you or tell you all of this that I’ve been keeping in my thoughts. I would just like to see you again, even if only for a few minutes, or maybe hours. We wouldn’t need to say anything. You wouldn’t have to say you love me, and I wouldn’t have to say I want to see you again. I could keep my feelings buried deep in my chest and ignore the fact that you don’t even feel pity for me, not even hatred, so that I could at least find a place in your thoughts, even if just for a few minutes. The worst part of all this is the indifference. Indifference hurts more than hatred, because it means you’ve abandoned everything and anything that could still make you remember me. And I think that what I wish for the most is that when I think of you, it’s because you’re pulling me into your thoughts, even if just once every six months... or a year. I wish I could look at you for hours, because sometimes I realize that even if I’ve just seen you on the street, the next moment I’ve already forgotten what your eyes look like, the next moment I’ve already forgotten the expression on your face. And that hurts me, because I can’t have anything more than the idea of who you were. Memory is one of the curses of my love for you—so short. I forget what you did to me and for me, just as I forget what you didn’t do. I forget your body, your face, your hair, your personality, your eyes. All because I can’t hold onto you in any way, physically or mentally. I’m not capable of keeping you within me. You slip away from my grasp, from my heart, and from my mind, leaving me only with the absence, since you took everything that was yours. Sometimes I don’t even know what I miss anymore. It’s the only thing I can cling to—the color of your eyes.
Report Topic
