Éros · 9:57pm Aug 27th, 2013

Every night I wonder what it must be like to be next to you, to feel your soft touch graze against my cheeks while I pull you in closer for an embrace. I want to hug away all the sadness that imprisons my heart, to know the beating of your heart and if it can match with mine. I want to press my lips against your forehead for a taste of your emotions, to gather a reaction from your body. I want to gaze in your eyes, face to face, to know that I would never be alone again.

But this screen. This damn wall. My own heart and my doubt. It chains me to the chair of everlasting depression as the whispers of the damn truth reach in my ears. All of it separates me and you by the ocean's length, keeping our finger tips from ever connecting. Fear tortures me as my sweat glues me to my prison. How do I know what ever happens to you? How do I know if you're okay? How do I know if you're really are alone? How do I know you're not lying to me? Is there somebody already there for you? Maybe it's not even worth the trouble, for I know my limits. I'm not suitable for you at all. You're out of my range, out of my league. I'm a lesser rank, desperately trying to hang on to the last glimmers of hope before they are taken away to be shattered. In iron bars, my dark wardens tell me to give up, telling me that I'll never be accepted by you. That I will always be left on the side of the road, and that you or anybody else will never love me.

But... I like to dream a little. I would pretend you are next to me in bed, listening to the stillness of the night as we keep each other company with our gaze. I would drag you into my arms for soft cuddling, breathing in the scent of your hair while your lips brush against my neck. I would cup your cheek in one of my palms, and stroke your silky hair while I bring your lips to mine for a sleepy kiss. The night is my companion, for even the darkest of thoughts would be asleep, and would not bother me.

But then morning would come, and they shall awake to tell me that I'm a creep. That I really don't deserve the kindness that accompanies you every time to speak to each other. Tears would stream down from the corners of my glassy eyes at the thought of losing your love. Do you even have a love for me? Or are we just friends? Will my feelings for you break that bridge? Will the magic of our friendship truly last forever and grow into something stronger, or will it just crumble into dust, left to be forgotten on the high shelf?

I care too much for you to let that happen. Blood leaks from my heart as I do, and it hurts so much that it feels like I'm dying.

Which is why I treasure our short moments that we have together because they're better than the long simmering torment of waking up each day, knowing that I really could never have you.

Companionship is a cruel curse that we all treasure once we find it and hold it in our hands for when it breaks, we either crack like rocks, or shatter like delicate glass.

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