No one woke me up when September ended

The bed was empty. 
So as myself. 

I the red light of morning, I slowly openedy eyes. He was there sleeping on his back, then roled over, facing me. 
His warm blue eyes smiled at me and his lips turned into that smile that's still giving butterflies in my stomach after all this time.
- good morning.
I closed my eyes for a second and reached for his face. My hand collapsed on his pillow, and his smell woke me up. 
He wasn't there. 
He was gone. 
He was gone and I couldn't do anything about it. 
Or I've probably done too much in the first place. 
My eyes started burning, bursting into tears straight away and I found myself covering my head with his pillow, while trying to understand why everything hurts so much.  
How did I become so weak? 
When did I become so weak?
Why do I need this person to feel the way I feel?
I felt his hand in my hair and I turned around with so much hope in my mind, to another empty bed side and a purple wall. 
I couldn't take it anymore. 
His smell was everywhere on and around me, his presence was torturing my mind, the need to tell him that I need his help to feel human, left me incomplete on an empty bed. 
On his side of the bed.
-I won't get the chance to see you smiling in the morning here, won't I? 
-then how come I feel you here? 
-you want me to be here. 
-this feels like...
-I'm not dead. 
I smiled at the empty wall, then looked at my room. 
I was going nuts. 
I couldn't stay here anymore. 
Having him since my early steps of a new life helped a lot, making me have the stupid illusion of a never ending story.
Of my life story. 
Of our life story. 
Of a story that's gone bad. 
Like my entire fuckin life in general. 
I pulled up a ripped pair of dirty jeans and  kept that three days old t-shirt I was living in.
Under the stack of clothes that was getting bigger day by day, I've taken two different socks. One was his and one was mine. 
I've put on the docs he gave me for Christmas, ignored the mirror and took his brown hoodie that was hanging on the door. 
I was ready to face another day, wearing him and our memories together. 
-I am not weak. I am just in love. 
Just in love. 
Is it possible that I've never been in love before? 
I smiled and went down my road. The hookers that usually stay at the bottom of my road, were probably sleeping at this time of day. 
So as the guys who tried to rob and stab me a few months ago. 
The tattoo on my ribs started itching and I thought of the day I've got it. 
He held my hands and kissed my forehead that day. 
I told my mind to stop. I need to let go. 
But I don't want to let go. 
I don't want to let him go. 
I don't want him to let go. 
I don't want him to let go of us. 
To let go of us. 
To let go of me. 
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. 
It smelt like him. 
I opened my eyes and in the red light of morning, he was there, on his side of the bed, on that pillow I was hating so much lately. 
I closed my eyes again and reached for his face. 

My hand collapsed on his pillow.

1 comment:

  1. you shouldn't need anyone to make you feel that way, to make you feel that special. because you are!