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Love, lost.

I reminisce of simpler times in my life, when love was more than a word, and its burden less than the sum of the pieces of my patched up heart. I’ve lived. And loved. I’ve had my heart broken and my emotions betrayed. I may no longer be in the beam of reality’s favor, but I can indulge in the sweet escape of my imagination. 

I wish to go return to the excitement that accompanied my first confession. When I hadn’t yet tasted the bitterness of unrequited love. When there was no fear of rejection and the horizon boasted only clear skies.


What does it feel like to fall in love with an old friend? To reveal you heart, only to be met with a nonplussed response…. But then have a flame grow out of that?


I miss the days when wearing your heart on your sleeve was a sign of transparency and candidness, not weakness and naivety. 


I long for the simpler times. When heartbreak wasn’t the rule, but the exception. When people in general were just more forthcoming and real. 


I imagine myself on a white sand beach, the lavender sky consuming the shore, & my love between my arms in a warm embrace. She is the girl of my dreams- Her eyes deeper than the ocean, warmer than the sun, removing any care in the world. How I long to be there again. Free and safe and complete.


I see her there, in my dreams. Perfect in every way. She is radiant- She sees me. She knows me. Ever by my side, yet always just beyond reach.


And so is the tragedy of dreams. For her curse is that she must remain in those dreams. And her dark secret is that she is merely the shadow of my betrayal. The umbra of every lost love- and the reflection of those that will never be. Her company is dually toxic and intoxicating. A Siren whose mere smile drags me to the intersection of memory and longing.


Many will enter my life, and many will walk away. But my curse is that she never will.

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