You & I

https://youtu.be/ZuIDh4XIzxU

I don’t want to have to explain this one, so I’ll write something I’ve been meaning to write, but I haven’t know how to.

I suppose you could refer to this as freeform prose.

The way my heart shook when I saw you that first time, I had been seeing you for quite some time, but I had never seen you up until that day in that enclosure. I can’t forget it, how can I? Day by day as I got to know you, I already knew you, yet there was so much to learn. Night by night as we spoke, I heard you, I kept on listening, until there was no more to be said, blissful silence; peaceful existence. Your mind, phantasmal, your presence, prolific, your smile, completion. The first time you uttered my name was nothing memorable, but the first time you uttered my name, is unforgettable. I do not know what to tell you. Not anymore. Now I only know what not to say, words I can not proclaim even though they desire to be claimed. The first time I held you, it was the first time, I felt… protected. The first time I left you, it was the first time, I felt… mistaken. The mornings we spent, with your fingers running through my hair, suggesting I was yours, demanding it, without a word being uttered, we both knew. The skirmishes we had, the conflict we encountered, the yelling, the fighting, the screaming, the anger, it was all so… real. What remains now is just a thought, a memory of you. You who would have been present, you who would’ve changed, but not allowed me to, you who I couldn’t have been enough for, you who I worked so hard to be enough for, you who I am enough for, yet I am not enough, for what is it to be enough? The first time the back of your fingers grazed over my cheek, feeling for each crevice, each imperfection, back then I wasn’t enough for myself, but I was for you. Promises of forever, lay writhing in a pit of deceit, I am sorry. Who would have loved me that way, except you. You who even this will not be enough for, you who is a memory that seems to have been embedded into my being, you who will never be spoken enough off. Until one day, I no longer feel.

I, who loved you, I, who protected you, I, who found you in a world you were lost in, like two lost souls destined to resent each other, I can not bring myself to fulfil that claim, I can never resent someone who brought me all the joy I had ever felt, all the comfort, all those nights your voice put me to sleep. The nights I held you, touched you, graciously felt you, so innocent yet so profound, so persistent. I felt I was never enough, I, who felt you were settling, I, who believed everyone as they snickered “how”. I, who chose to listen to those people rather than you, who told me I was enough. I, who was insecure, who felt that it was impossible to be good enough, real enough, secure enough. I who felt scared, I who felt out of my place in my own skin in front of you, even though you accepted me. I, the fool that thought more is without you, when you were the foundation for what more had always been. I, who finds myself on this keyboard speaking of you, to no one. No one who knows. No one knows how I loved you, how it cracked me into tiny little pieces as I said goodbye, I who watched a video telling me to watch from afar, for that was the only way to help you grow. I, who hated myself for not allowing you to be anything more than mine, for not giving you the time, the security, to explore. I’m too tired, too exhausted, too weak, to even hold you, let alone lift you, like I used you. I am not him anymore, but I don’t know who I am without you.