Swaying Skyscrapers

No harm trying. That’s what everyone says. I’m getting tired of hearing the same words of advice over and over again. I’m afraid. Afraid of losing myself, afraid of falling into the dark pit of despair. It’s only been three months since the break up. The wounds are still healing. Yes, with his aid that he unconsciously provided, I am healing at a speed beyond normal but the memory of the pain is still fresh in my mind. Realizing that I have fallen for him is killing me on the inside. Realizing it when I’m having a fever makes it worse. Drowsy, confused and afraid.

“What are you so afraid of?”

Of losing him after I get use to his presence. Of realizing that his feelings aren’t real. Of betrayal. Of trust and reliance. Of being made used of. Of being an object used for showing off.

Love hurts.

If it is love in the first place.

It is going to be a gamble. If I take the gamble, I will throw my heart and soul into this, potentially breaking my soul forever if it doesn’t work out. It is a difficult choice. A choice that will kill or heal.


Crying Raindrops

Soft pitter patter of raindrops on the granite floor. Soft pounding of my heartbeat. Soft tap of my feet on the surface. A hollow empty shell drifting on the streets. White spots are blurring my vision already. But I don’t want to stop. I want my feet to carry me away far from this place, even if I fall, I will get up and continue. That is my resolve. The sharp pain throbbing in my chest, a painful reminder of what just happened remains within me. I am a coward. I cannot bear this pain. I will leave to a place far away and I will never let anyone in again. That is my resolve.




Soft pitter patter of raindrops again. This time I look up at the sky, it isn’t raining. Then I feel a dampness on my cheek. Oh, that familiar sound is that of my tears hitting the surface. I looked down once again and observed each drop of tear through my blurred vision, how it disperses into tiny droplets after making impact. I breathed heavily and let out a silent scream. It happened again, someone has unlocked the box stored within me and I am exposed once more. Soft tap of feet on the surface. This time, it’s not mine. A warm hand landed on my shoulder, the warmth welcomed by my shivering body.

“It’s okay, I won’t let you go.” He said that too.

“It’s okay, I won’t watch you fall.” I fell once already and nobody helped me.

“It’s okay, I won’t break you.” I am already broken, imperfect.

“It’s okay, I am not him.” 

It’s too late, I am exposed once more. Those words shattered the last of my resolve and I dived into his arms, his warmth engulfing me completely. Sobbing and heaving into his chest, I knew it was too late. But it can be a new beginning if I want it to be.

The past is in the past, a new beginning awaits ahead. To embrace the future, to treasure the past, to build a new me.