Skinny Love

We will never know why such a thing happened to us. Let's say it depends on God's will, so what? We have been given a lot of chances to change our fate. Certain things that we cannot change are revolving only on when will we die, who will be our soul mate, and how will we die. Those things are certain.

At least I knew how to use one. When I really had the chance to say those three words to you after years buried deep down in an artificial rabbit hole I made.

What was your response again?

Cold.

You weren't happy or sad hearing it.
Your face was blue, I wish I could transfer the warmth by throwing you a real tight hug.
You were mute at the time I declared myself to get out of this cave I named after you.


And I knew you said those three words once. Long before me. 
You said it when I barely couldn't get focused on your utterances. Don't blame me, my dear. I was too excited to see Taylor Swift standing before me singing her Red song. But I could still remember how you kept staring at me while I danced around here and there. I wish I could stare at you too and end up both of us eating each other.

I was too selfish at that time, I knew it. I'm sorry.

After your declaration, we were still being best friends. Although, our skinny love was just waiting for something more real. We both knew it. We were just too shy to start it.
Both of us still share a similar burden carried from our past until we didn't even know the correct way to start it all over again.
The reason was quite similar.
Our past romance-experiences were hurtful even to re-imagine it again.
I really wanted to feel real love, in fact. Real one like I could roll into your arms whenever I could, hug you tightly when you feel sick, and encourage each other when one made a mistake. Not skinny love like what we had been through all these years

I wanted the world to know I was yours; I was the only person you think about after getting up from your sleep, when you go to sleep, when you eat, study, work out, and stuff.
And I knew that you did have the same feeling as me, right dear? 

Was it God's will or what- I finally said those three words. I whispered it through your ears. 
They were so cold. But you look 'hot' in your suit, and a little bit of powder on your face smeared mine.

Where were you going, Mr. Young James Dean?

But why did you keep ignoring me?
Where were you going?
Was I too late for this?

Popular posts from this blog

My Star by Robert Browning

The Era of Puritanism (1564-1660): Literary Works

Gender Stereotypes and Performativity in Frozen Movie