all for naught?

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
just thoughts

Submitted: August 13, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 13, 2016






He gazed at me for only a moment. I found his coal grey eyes so piercing however, that I found myself peering furtively at the ground. Even so, my vision was directed back to him when he spoke.

“See this- this here on my sleeve-” I looked and then squinted… a little confused. It was just the sleeve of a regular navy blue, cotton shirt.

“Sorry?” Had I missed something that he said?

His lips twitched, forming a sad half smile. “Exactly. It’s gone now. I’ve gone and lost it again. I was stupid… stupid!” He shook his head as the sharp words came out.

“Sorry-” I whispered again, “What was it that you lost?”

Now it was he who peered at the ground. “My heart.”




I didn’t mean for it to happen. These words feel like they are wrapped forever in the folds of my memory. Sometimes I truly believe myself when the thought appears in my head… it feels so real that it slips out from my lips, brushing against the foggy mirror.

Really though? No. It is all a hoax. An excuse. Just a trick I like to play on myself.

These happenings… well for sure the outcome is one I don’t want, one I don’t like. And sometimes in the present, in the time when it has all already happened, sometimes I can’t remember the choice; when did I make the choice or why… because sometimes it just comes gradually. But no matter how gradually it comes… it is still done of my own volition. It wasn’t an accident.

So yes… maybe I didn’t mean for it to happen, or more: I didn’t think that it could happen; I didn’t want to think that it could happen - when I made the decision. Either way... I keep hurting myself like this. Over and over. Always unrequited. Always looking in from the outside. Jealousy and envy swirl like a toxic compound. I want it. I need it. However, I am scared of breaking things. Instead, I break myself.

Once again, my sleeve runs red - a reminder of what was once there.




“Why have you been avoiding me lately?”

Direct as always. Not “Have you been avoiding me” or “Are you avoiding me” or “I feel like you’ve been avoiding me”. No. She asks “why”.

“Avoiding… you?” I whisper. Her hazel eyes seem to flash as she retorts:

“Yeah, I have noticed you know? You aren’t exactly subtle.” I feel a pounding in my chest. How should I respond? She knows. Right? She has to know.

“Do you really want to know?” Stalling. Even now I am trying to escape. To get away from this unfavourable situation. It comes far too naturally to me.

“Of course.” A quick peek at her face and you wouldn’t suspect any weakness… but I heard her voice waver ever so slightly.

“I-” I am at the crossroads, “It’s because-” I am a terrible liar, and besides - she knows me too well, “It’s because I feel like-” I am past the point of no return - inside I am cursing myself, “I feel like I would fall for you otherwise…”

That soft intake of breath is a booming thundercloud in my mind. I can already predict the storm approaching.

“What do you mean? You know I’m already with-” As she says the name the sword in my chest is plunged ever deeper. “You better not be-” I shake my head vigorously and her forward momentum is halted.

Her fragile hand caresses her forehead - gently nudging aside dark strands of hair - as she sighs. A sound so pitiful I find myself averting my guilty eyes. I hate a part of myself for this. I don’t want to be here anymore.

“Look, I-” She isn’t looking at me as the words filter out between her two fingers, “I still want to be your friend. I really value your friendship-” My peripherals notice her movement stop as she realises I am still looking away. Another deep exhale. “I don’t want to lose you as well. Will you still be my friend?”

“Sure.” It is an impulse reaction. My mind doesn’t even flicker for that one word.

“Alright… ok.” She is not convinced. Obviously. We both know that whatever comes next will be half truths at most.

The worst thing is… she is not at fault. But now we are both hurting. Even when I toss these thoughts around I still can’t find a better option, a happy resolution. It is just the way I am, I tell myself. It seems as though when I fall, I bring down everything I am chained to as well.

And I only know how to cut the chains.



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