#unfinished excerpts
It was a mere summer daydream, it wasn’t supposed to go far. It was to be short and sweet, like ripping a band aid off, quick and painless. But the more time I spent with him, the more the infatuation grew. I didn’t care that he wasn’t six pack ripped. I didn’t care that he had fading pimples, or random tattoos. He took me out of my boundaries. He was new. And I soon found myself tracing the freckles that covered his nose and back, I found myself running my hands through his messy hair, and smiling into his sparkling blue eyes whenever he caught me staring. He was beautiful, and he made me feel the same. Our time together was a magical experience; the sneaking out in the pitch-dark of night, climbing out of motel room windows and smoking Marlboro reds. Lying on the basketball court side-by-side talking to one another under the thousands of stars. Car journeys, shopping, sleeping together, watching the meteor shower cuddled under a blanket, hands entwined.
It all happened so quickly, and ended the same way.
A bittersweet love affair.
You’ll light one of those Marlboros we always used to smoke, and as the clouds of smoke billow through the air your mind will drift to us. It’s been years, but occasionally, you think back to that summer. A summer of unrequited love. You’ll remember the first time you kissed me, and you’ll remember the last. Then the sun will eventually fade into the horizon and the dark will creep it’s way in, and you’ll realise again that it’s over. It’s been over since the day we first met. All we have is the memories, those bittersweet memories that are still too precious to let go of. Without them, it would have all been just a dream. And maybe that’s all it was. But you’ll remember everything as if it were yesterday - and you’ll wonder where it all went wrong, and you’ll think about the timing, and what it could have been, what we could have been.
He smelled like Marlboro reds
He told me smoking was bad for me, I never thought he would turn out to be worse. He was the type of person that got stuck, not only in my head, but in my veins too. The type I wrote poetry about, but wouldn’t introduce to my parents. He lit a fire inside of me, and then left me to burn out. I didn’t need to kiss him to feel the sparks, every time his fingertips brushed across my skin, my heart would race like a Maserati. My skin erupted in goose bumps, and my stomach filled with butterflies. And every time his lips met mine, I felt like I was on ecstasy. He was the closest thing to love I ever felt, and now that he’s gone I don’t want to feel it again. When he kissed me for the last time, my heart felt this loneliness; I still haven’t recovered from it.
- an illicit affair
New York wasn’t the same without you. I never once thought for a second that a city, so vast and overpopulated could ever make me feel so lonely. But that’s exactly what it did. I could see your face everywhere, almost like you were haunting me. Guilt following me wherever I went. I shouldn’t have been thinking of you. But I saw you on street corners laughing drunkenly with your friends. I saw you in Central Park, smoking cigarettes. I saw you at the Highline - looking out at the skyline. And then I saw you, outside the hotel - teary eyed, arms outstretched - begging me to stay. And then I saw myself, shaking, with wet cheeks from the tears streaming down them, turning around and walking away from you. And as I stepped into the yellow taxi, you disappeared, faded away like you did 7 years ago. What would have happened if I stayed? If I didn’t get into the elevator?
New York left me lonelier than I was after I left you. I guess it’s my karma - you always had a way of coming back to me. Without you, my vision of New York is tainted - haunted by you.
She was a bright girl. She knew what she wanted, and she knew exactly what she didn’t. She was easy to know, but difficult to work out. Mature for her age, with bright - misleading eyes, filled with innocence; contrasting from the crimson red that constantly coated her lips. Sending mixed signals without even opening her mouth. A burning soul and a freezing heart - contradicting herself from inside out. She’s a paradox. She’s careless, but she cares all too much. A love that once filled her heart, leaves her aching and longing. A passion that consumed her, leaves her cold and distant. A smile that was once permanently etched on her face is now vacant, left hard and bitter, non existent.
I set myself on fire just to keep you warm.
Once I lost you, I began to look for you, I’d look for you in the men I would date. I’d go for the men with messy blonde hair and sky blue eyes, but would run for the hills after realising they didn’t sound like you, they didn’t kiss like you nor did they listen like you. I started listening for you in songs: picturing the way you used to tap your thumbs against the steering wheel to the beat of the music we’d play in the car. I began to look for you in books; reliving our experience through someone else’s words and perspective. I began smoking those Marlboro cigarettes you always used to smoke, trying to be closer to you even though you were out of reach. I played our playlist everyday, on repeat, imagining we were still in your car singing along to every song. And then I started looking for you in my dreams, replaying the time we spent together over and over again, trying to chase after the memories, knowing I would never be able to replay them again. I tried everything, just to feel close to you - to feel the connection I feared I would never be able to find again.
Maybe one day you’ll call me and tell me that you’re sorry too.
Maybe one day, I will find someone else to love, But I know it will never be a love like ours. It might fill me up with happiness - but it will never replace the love that we had. He might know me, But he won’t know me the way you did, the way you do. He won’t know to give me the grape flavoured candies out of the bag of Jolly ranchers - you know they were always my favourite. He won’t know the way I drink my coffee; strong with that French vanilla creamer you know I loved. He won’t know to squeeze my thigh when that one Ed Sheeran song plays, I always cry when that one song plays, but I didn’t when you were with me. He won’t know to make me a grilled cheese at barbecues - you know how much I hate grilled meat. He won’t know what I’m thinking without even asking me - only you could do that. He won’t be able to read me like an open book - that was your job. He won’t know to push me up against walls and steal a kiss from me - that’s always reserved for you. He won’t know what playlist to play when we drive - that will always remain ours. He won’t know me, I don’t think anyone will ever know me the way you did, the way you still do.
- You were a moment in life that comes and goes.
