Wanted

Every morning when she opened her eyes to see the day for the first time, she told herself that she was not going to be sad anymore. But each day it became incredibly more difficult, because she looks at the world in a different way. She doesn’t look at the world with her eyes, she looks at the world with her heart. She sees love everywhere– and not always romantic love, but enough love to make her crave the feeling of being wanted. She wants to be loved the way that the stars love the moon, the way the writer loves the ink that spills from her pen.

She cares so much, maybe a little too much. That’s why she felt so empty when he left, and why she didn’t just fall, she crashed.

The pain pulls the hope out of her when the sun sets, but she holds onto it… because it is the only reminder that what they had was real. She wastes an exorbitant amount of the energy that she somehow still has trying to hide. She wants to hide from him, hide from the mess that they have made— a mess yet to be cleaned. But mostly she wants to hide from herself. She didn’t want to face the emotions that she knew were on the verge of exploding. Because if she lets them explode, she will see them; if she sees them then she has to acknowledge that they are real. So real, it scares her beyond a point of her own mental sanity.

She begs God to make her feelings pass– but not really. The only reason she wants them to disappear is because it hurts too much to feel them.

She remembers hearing that usually you miss the feeling more than the person them self, and how could you not miss the feeling? But she constantly stumbles upon herself over and over again missing the boy– but that’s what he is; a boy. She understands that he needs time to become a man, but her biggest fear is that when that time comes it won’t be her that he wants.

She misses him, and she doesn’t know what to do. How could a place that once made you so satisfied and safe and content simmer to ashes in a matter of days? I liked us better when we were on fire, but didn’t burn. The thing about smoldering embers is that they can’t be relit, they can only glow a dim, beautiful light until they die away.

Believe her when she says that she has seen better days, because she walked with him among the stars and moon. Now she searches for a way out of the dark.