January 1, 2018 I still remember a sunset, the sky an ethereal splay of periwinkle, dandelion and lilac. Once upon this sunset, we met. The trees whispered esoteric tales, waiting for a clandestine dusk to befall them. I remember the wind rushing past my ears, intertwining with my unruly curls, as it danced with the cerulean waves, a lingering scent of sea salt, heavy in the air. The deafening roar as the water crashed ashore, a deadly storm in the making. I remember skipping through the soft sandy shoreline, feet squelching as they sunk into the fine silt. They clung to the crevices of my toes as I wiggled them, in vain. Sinking my feet into the cool depths of the sea, my body instantly relaxes as it succumbs to the soothing dew. The water, as it sprayed onto my slightly damp cheeks; the cold seeping through the warmth of my skin. You watched me from a distance with amusement glittering in your bright blue eyes, your sandy blond locks, a lopsided mess. It was the first time you saw me; really, saw me. The smile that stretched on your lips, as you heard the sound of my laughter; a lullaby lost along the serenity of that sundown. Wrapped in your layers of warmth, you watched a bird taking flight in all its glory. Standing in awe of the liberty my wings soared with, sailing through the sky, unaware of the land. Basking in the ephemeral twilight as though it were eternal, you fell in love with me. What you had never seen was the warm salty tears that mingled with the sea; a plea, lost among the roaring waves. A silent cry of unparalleled despair, a mere echo of the intangible bruises that tainted my heart and soul. Sharp jagged edges threatened to pierce through your very existence, yet did not notice and you never would. We were broken. I saw it in the way you playfully smirked at me as you embraced me, except it wasn't as simple. Your entire form tensed, as you wrapped your arms around my lithe form, the momentary hesitance that flickered through your eyes; they'd told a story on their own. Albeit, it lacked any semblance of beauty. It was not poetic or profound, save the thoughts that raged within our minds. There was not a mellifluous melody that could align with the lingering ghosts of our pasts. Excruciating. Endless. Enslaving. The universe quaked in its wake. I saw it in the shadows that lined your bright eyes; in every fleeting glance, that was much more meaningful to you than you let on. Your nightmares bled into the wake of the morning; a siren's call, enchanting and alluring. A song, so threatening, so sinister, surrendering oneself unto the darkest nightmares. An agony so afflicting, a glimpse rendered the brightest of starlight, a flicker in the dark.
You thought I was the one. The one. I'd waited to hear that for years. A dream, finally a reality. The world I created for us, you finally saw it too. Imagined it all, picket white fence, tiny hands entwined in ours, as we walked down this very shore, as the sun bade farewell, sailing into the horizon. Bonfires and midnight smores, giggles harmonising with the hide and seek of the waves. A few stolen glances of assurance and spontaneous rendezvous later, I knew. I knew as we watched the stars twinkling in the infinite expanse. A concoction so beautiful, a tale so utopian, that I almost wished it as much as you did. But reality came crashing down. Hard and fast. It wasn't love you felt for me. Poetry- it's what your heart thrives in. Stories- are what your mind excelled in; utopia- became your favourite one, until you made it your reality. But stories came along with lies and your love for me was your favourite one.
Life with me was another one of your fantastical tales. Life, however, is not a tale. The pen isn't in your hand in this one. You lived in your utopian semblance of perfection and I lay amid the ugly truths of life. I let you go because I knew. I knew that the wound you patched up with more lies would soon bleed. It would bleed, bleed and bleed. Because you were too broken for my jagged heart to fix. I let you go because you would have to heal. You would have to heal yourself. Only you could fix you. Today, seventeen years later, I watch in silence, a shawl wrapped around my shoulders, as you smile down at her, the way you never did me. Clutching her hand, like you'd never let go; your gaze flitted over to the smiling head of wild blonde curls. Today, I watched as you kissed your daughter's crown, eyes lighting up in adoration, as you whispered, 'I love you, Rose.' Four words. The four words you'd uttered to me, at this very sunset, but they were never as true, as they were, today. Today, I didn't whisper them back.
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