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Oct 2013
I wish I told you how I felt. I guess it's hard to articulate how you feel to someone when you're sat half naked on the edge of their bed in a room that once looked so recognisable, with a boy who suddenly seems like a stranger to you. His eyes aren't the ocean anymore, more like glaciers that freeze up your heart. His body seems like an anomaly amongst others, or maybe yours was. Your eyes can't melt all the ice inside him and you're too scared to look at him anyway. You slowly turn your defeated body towards his, and with your eyes staring at the bed you manage to choke 'I can't do this.' You ask him to take you home and he hugs you and touching him is the worst thing in the world because now you can't kiss him; you can't press your lips to his neck and make him laugh and you can't run your fingers through his hair because he doesn't love your little hands anymore. He never did.
His ****** old car is the one place you felt safe but on the drive home you can't breathe properly and it's hard to do anything except smoke cigarette after cigarette. Your eyes are glaring at the road and he keeps trying to say things but his voice doesn't sound right anymore and you turn the music up. You tell him you have nothing to say, when in reality you have everything to say. That night, you have never been so quiet in your life. You didn't even realise you were quiet because your mind was screaming so loud you thought everybody could hear. And oh, how you wish he could hear; those familiar little thoughts that he so wonderfully banished from you mind only to bring them back even stronger than before. Your mind turns black. You could feel everything and nothing.
He pulled up to your house and you finally found the strength to look at him one last time. He tries talking but you're still not listening because the minute your eyes rest on him you notice. You notice all the parts of his face you forgot to kiss, you notice he's had a haircut, you notice he looks so much like the ******* angel you thought he was. You realise you'll never get to feel that body against yours again, that you'll never be able to touch him with a purpose, that you'll never be able to wrap yourself around him on bad days and just let him hold you. But then you remember there's someone else kissing him now, and that haircut wasn't fo you. You realise he's had another girl's body against his and he's touching her without purpose, without emotion... he's touching her the same way he touched you. You realise he was the one holding you together and you get out of the car and you walk in to your empty house and you fall apart all over your kitchen floor. You have your knees pulled up to your chin like always, as if you're trying to hold yourself together on your own. You don't know how to be on your own and you're crying and screaming because you didn't say what you wanted to say and he's gone. He was your best friend and he used you and your body and he broke your ******* heart and you were too busy trying to keep it together to voice this. And now you can't keep it together. Three whole days have passed and you're still too disgusted with yourself to look in the mirror. You can't find a place that feels like home anymore. You left your pathetic little heart in his room or his car or his hands and you've felt like a ghost ever since. It's hard to see or listen or breathe because he was home and he's gone. And you can't even find the will to hate him. You only hate yourself.
maisie khan
Written by
maisie khan  Bracknell, England
(Bracknell, England)   
618
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