I feel a lot of things. (sometimes a lot of nothing.) I dont usually tell the people in my life about them. Its too hard. But i can write. And so thats what i do.
I write. 32 followers / 1.9k words
youre such a bitter person. have you always been this bitter or did I do this to you? Im so sorry. And I cant say it enough. And I say it way too ****** much. My heart misses yours. I miss your smell. your touch. your laugh. your goofy *** faces. I miss you. I miss your everything. All of it. The anger, the crazy, the delusion.
Tonight i sat in the dark for a bit. (A moment of silence if you will.) Holding a taper candle, staring into its flame.
At first, for a bit, i was worried about candle wax dripping down and spilling over my hands and onto either my bedsheets or the carpet. (Can hot candlewax start a fire? Surely not. Right?) And then i thought to myself, "**** it." If something happens ill catch it before it gets too bad. Ill feel the pain and it will remind me that i am alive. That i am lucky. That i can still feel things.
The candlewax did not spill or drip at all. (Did you know they make candles like that?? Magic.)
Now, a bit disappointed, i thought, "What a sediment"
I took the candle into my right hand. Oh, so carefully, I tilted the candle holding the flame over my right wrist. One drop. I flinched.
The pain stopped as soon as it came.
One for me.
As i shifted the candle to my left hand,
"This is for you. And all the pain you felt. And that i didnt know about."
"This is my proof that i would have tried if i had known."