hallucinogenic.
Along the walk from the train station to my school is a wide expanse of grassland that stretches about half a kilometre in every direction. Today, while walking towards the station, I noticed patches of blooming mimosas dotting the bright green canvas with darker greens. The wind picked up and my skirt flew up; the lovegrass bent all in one direction, and the mimosas closed up. It was then that I thought of you; you who were so quick to shun contact and so afraid to open up.
Your heart seems to me to be a field of mimosas, every little breeze and every slight touch triggering your defences. Will you stop being so wary only when you’ve withered, my love?
Once more, you have vanished. I hope you’re safe, wherever you are.
My heart will surely fail fast with the pain I heap onto it.
I’ve lost you. Of this much at least, I’m certain.
I don’t hold anything in your past, save for reminders of past hurts. Your present is consumed by the shadows your mind casts. And your future? I am no part of it.
I fear desperation setting in; I fear needing you once more. I fear no proper farewells, yet I’m afraid I won’t release you if you return. Perhaps cutting me out was the right thing to do after all. You have always been right after all.
Monday mornings always used to find me wishing I were in a relationship, with someone who would accept all of me and the bullshit, neuroses and insecurities I throw out. Now I realize why I never can stay.
Being chased feels too much like being hunted. As much as I want to offer all of myself, abject terror holds me captive.
This is why I always will keep running.
