my name is not important and neither is my age for both of these only play a very small part in who i am. there's only a few things that matter, a few things that make me who i am. but those few things take up every inch of my heart and leave me rasping for air. i am outspoken, far too much so. i believe in forgiveness, but not in stupidity. i have this bracelet i never take off. along with my engagement ring. i have too many scars to count, scars that i am sometimes sad over, but never ashamed of. i believe in fallen angels. i work at starbucks pouring coffee and being way too cheery. i collect the writings on their paper cups. i have two cats that i die without. i have been called crazy more times than i can count and perhaps i am, but at least i have figured myself out. i dream too much. being in a room full of people makes my palms sweat and my stomach turn. i love the color red like whoa. i believe in building up, not building walls. i love to sleep, run around in the snow, watch horror movies, read fantasy books, and bike to nowhere. i have these weird habits of making endless lists and flipping through blank papers. maybe i'm looking for something i missed.
as i sat on the side of the busy road holding his hand, i tried to picture how my life would be in the future with him. i looked over at his face. his platinum blond hair shined against the dark, velvety background of the sky. his blue eyes held me in them and i felt like crying. he loved me with every inch of his being and i hated to admit that i didn’t feel even remotely the same way. i felt like i was leading a false life when i was with him. as i sat there and stared at him, he smiled; it only made me feel worse about what was going through my mind. he had no idea and i kind of liked it that way. i squeezed his hand and then let my hand go limp as i looked away. his hands were warm, but mine were icy cold. i couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. i looked to my left and watched the cars racing by. i stood up and by then, i could feel his eyes on my back. “what are you doing?” he asked. even though he said the words very quietly, they were the only thing i could hear. i didn’t hear the cars, i just heard his soft voice and it echoed. was that possible? i looked at him and smiled. his eyes met mine and gave me a look of concern. i turned back towards the traffic and i heard him as clear as day, “i love you.” that was the first time he’d ever said that to me, and it hurt as bad as anything possibly could. i took a big deep breath and walked into traffic. i turned towards the oncoming traffic and my last thought was, “so these are the bright lights of heaven?”.
it's not so much that i miss you. it's more that i miss myself because you are me and when you're gone i swear that i am nothing more than nothing.