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When our story ended

I remember my friend Clara

telling me the dumbest words
I ever heard
in 22 years
of living a life
of total absurdity

she told me
I should not cry
because our story
ended

but smile because it happened

dear Clara,
when I cry so much
I cannot breathe

or when I spend
nights without sleeping
because I am alone in my bed

shaking so much
the neighbors
go outside running faster than Usain Bolt
because they think there is an earthquake

it is not because our story ended

it is because
the second he put
his hand on my thigh
and looked at me
with eyes so bright
I got lost in them

I knew I had to run away

but I did not

and I knew that
if I got attached to him
he would eventually
get bored of me
and leave me shaking in the dark

but he got me with his goddamn smile
a smile so mysterious
it made Agatha Christies enigmas
look like amateur work

and the day he told me he loved me
I swear I heard wedding bells
in my head

and dear Clara,
if I am crying right now
it is partly because
I mistook fire truck sirens
for wedding bells

how stupid do you think
that makes me feel?

and dear Clara,
I am very sorry
but I won’t smile
because it happened

I will cry and scream at the sky
and forget to sleep and eat
because I’ll be busy drinking
disgusting liquor

maybe I’ll even
let other boys
kiss me on the thighs
even though they don’t even
know my name
to try to forget
how beautiful my name sounded
when he was the one saying it

I will do all of that
because
from the second I met him
I knew I had to run

but I did not

and the first time
we kissed

my heart was pumping so hard
I am sure he felt it through his jacket
and maybe he even woke up the next morning
with bruises on his chest
wondering where or how he got them

that day I understood exactly
how our story would end
he would look for another poor soul to break
and I would have a hard time getting out of bed
for months

and dear Clara,
if I am crying right now
maybe it is also because

at the bottom
of my shattered heart
I know that

I would let him
break me
all over again

if it meant
I could taste his lips

one last time.

If you ever meet a bad boy with eyes like honey, run darling, run before it’s too late.

goldenkintsugi

(via goldenkintsugi)

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