I am starting to believe that I have lost the ability to love.
I have started to kiss people with no spark, I’ve held empty hands, and slept in the arms of people I do not fully know.
It all started with a boy, of course.
A boy who wasn’t a spark, but was a firework
He was the sun, the moon, the sky, the flowers, etc
He took up so much room in my mind that he practically became my world.
I spent my nights writing poetry about him in the shadows of my room,
Because if I did it with the lights on, I wasn’t able to immerse myself in the memories we created in the dark.
Under blankets and under the stars,
We made promises that would soon prove to be empty,
And we kissed each other so passionately that the feeling of his lips would be stained on mine.
The boy taught me that I could have everything I have ever wanted,
And there could still be a “but”
We were happy together… but hardly in each other’s presence
We were in love… but he didn’t feel the same kind of love
He gave me everything he had… but he didn’t think it was enough.
See, right there was the problem.
He never thought he was enough for me,
But little did he know that he wasn’t just “enough”.
He was everything.