So Far: My Happy Home.

I’ve never felt so far being next to you. No matter how hard I cried, how loud I screamed, you couldn’t hear the pain that killed me, and you couldn’t hear me pleading for you to stay and just love me; all of me, with absolutely all of you. You couldn’t hear me over the notifications ringing a reminder of the other person, someone whose impacted only existed a year against the six of mine.

You couldn’t hear the cracking and stabbing of my heart every night through my voice over the phone, because you could only hear your sorrow for what you have done and for what you won’t stop yourself from continuing to do.

Never in my six years, have I felt so far. So far even while I was holding your hands or even embracing your body in the car.

The most devastating thing is realizing what I don’t wish to be true.

Our time has passed, we now live in different dimensions. I still live, in love with a you of yesterday, dreaming of a you tomorrow. But you are in love in a different world where there is no me.

You’ve tasted a love that fits in your shoes better than mine.

I know you cannot say it to me, but I feel it everyday.

And because I waited for you to say it in fear, bracing myself with every breath, you knew you couldn’t and wouldn’t ever say it to me, for there’s nothing left that won’t just destroy me.

Some say there are two people in the world: one that is twice reborn, who takes the pain that burns them alive to evolve into the next them, and one that is born and never strays from the comfort of who they believe they are.

I believe that I am proof of what may be three times reborn. There is nothing left of me that I recognize as myself, but yet I am strangely content with all that I am. And you, you are the distance of a home that used to be mine. The home remains, but the warmth, the interior, the exterior is no longer what I’ve always known. Everything is renovated and reconstructed around by a touch that is not mine. This home has no light to help me enter, and I can only stare from the doorstep at the memories that replay, the adolescent etches I made on the walls, the treasures I left behind, and the life I cannot get back. There is no room for me in this house of a new owner and I cannot stay for long. I pack my bags and turn with heavy steps, and walk myself out the door, burying my happy home inside my heart.

As I close my eyes, may the universe take care of my home I left behind.

Advertisements

Leave Nakita a Note!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s