It gets better
After you pass the first big dates without him.
The feelings rush through your nerves,
Viewing flashbacks of all the happy moments
And even the mental breakdowns you had.
Reminding you why it worked for a while,
And why you both had to leave.
You’ve passed the heavenly end of summer,
You’ve passed the day you approached him again,
You’ll pass the anniversary,
You’ll pass his birthday,
You’ll pass that intense Christmas.
You’ll pass the re-writes of all New years.
You’ll pass it all without him, and it’s okay.
They had their traditional engagement gathering where he would come to her house and ask her father first. The following day, he did it like the movies and proposed in a restaurant.. just after they took their shishas.
“Tomorrow’s a bit windy”, he said, “don’t wear something warm”, looking at her with a grin.
“I’ll be too cold, you know how whiney I can get with the cold”, she responded.
“No you won’t, i’ll take care of that”
Next day, he went to meet her and saw her hair dancing, sending warm prickles to his cheeks. He snuck behind her, stretched the end of his sweater and trapped her inside.
“Snuggle in, angel. One sweater is enough, don’t you think?”
Her arms found their way through his sleeves, and he held her closely, burying his head in her neck, smelling fresh watermelon.
I love you – he thought, but he couldn’t say it out loud because he felt more than that.. More than love could describe.
“I love you more than love itself”, she said, as if she read his mind.
I lay back, close my eyes, and float in the rhythm of my dreams..
And when once my dreams were an escape from reality..
Reality has come to haunt me to my bed,
As it has graved itself at the core of my subconscious.
Now I cannot tell between being awake or asleep..
The pain feels the same in both worlds..
The guilt tastes sour, choking me.
There is no relief, but heightened stress..
Drowning by my own misery, my own history.
Is there a writer out there..
Who could rewrite my yesterdays
And glamour them with sugar-coated lies?
Maybe I could be manipulated that all these dreams and reality
Are the stories of a character in a book..
A sad old dusty book.
That has nothing to do with me.
That I’m just a reader of my story.
With your tenderness..
With your affectionate
Unravel my unfathomable
And deepest secrets..
I should have known that.
Should’ve known better
Than to leave her behind
Leaving her alone
To face.. My friends?
She was/is my friend too.
But she was silent.
She didn’t defend herself.
I guess she felt she didn’t need to
She felt right.
She shouldn’t need to
To justify something
She didn’t do.
Even if she did,
It’s not my business.
It was theirs.
They were both my friends.
Why did i need to take sides?