Saturday, July 10, 2010

Where did it all go?

We had this thing together- him and I, where we'd sit side by side, the palm of my hand faced upward as his eyes continually gazed from his hand, to mine, and then back at the movie screen. I'd smile to myself thinking how sweet it was of him to actually be intimidated to hold my hand, of all people. After this traditional pattern, (that even after the third or fourth time still seemed to take him fifteen minutes) he would finally find a reason to touch my hand, or point out a particular finger. "You're still wearing that bracelet?" He'd ask in a pretend shocked voice, while taking my hand as if he needed a closer look to see if he was thinking of the right one or not. I'd nod, and laugh at how silly he sounded knowing I'd worn this bracelet everyday since the day I met him. But it always excited me for what would come next, like it always did: He'd then intertwine his fingers with mine, as if they were made to fit together perfectly. Like two puzzle pieces that had finally been found after a lifetime apart. We'd get closer, his head on my shoulder, my own head resting on his, sharing the same air and listening to each other's heart beats.

Question: Where did all that love go?

Sometimes when I'm all alone, I remember certain things about you. Like you're green eyes. I remember the way they'd look into mine as though you were trying to find something more than just my iris. Somehow, I swore you could see all the way into my soul.

Without you, at first, I felt good, like I'd done something right for myself. But, the farther it got from that point, the harder it seemed to be. I guess it's true when they say absence makes the heart grow fonder. I wasn't okay with it in the beginning, and I'm still not okay with it now.
A few weeks ago, it seemed I would go through the motions of life on automatic. I cried at the most random things. Someone would be pouring a glass of water and I'd suddenly feel tears running down my face. But the absolute worst was when people asked if I was okay. Because then I had to admit that it was real, it happened, and we weren't together anymore.
And yeah, it got better. My stomache eventually went back to normal. I didn't cry every day.
But my heart. My heart will always be broken.


  1. ... is this about who i think it is?

    and it's amazing.

    the good-writer gene skipped me... and the pretty one. it's just not fair :)

  2. haha! BINGOOO!:) I wish I could let the Mr.Liarfacepianoman go!