we sat around a bonfire pit: you held a bottle of gordon's and a menthol in one hand and i sat cross legged in a splintery wooden chair. the crackling dance of orange flames had already settled but the glowing embers still licked furiously at my cheeks and eyelashes. the night before, we tried holding hands on your couch "just to see" if either of us could feel anything other than apathy towards another person. we mutually postponed our conclusions.
i thought, maybe we should return to our discussion.
i inhaled; my exhales were staccato and hesitant.
i smelled my hair.
i inhaled again.
and then you started whistling. you licked your lips. the tone was shrill. i recognized the tune after you finished the second measure of the chorus. i watched your pursed lips as a smile formed at the edges of my mouth, so i fidgeted with the hem of my shorts.
"you are my sunshine," you started singing. "my only sunshine." you were not whistling anymore.
"don't," i teased.
"you make me happy when skies are gray."
"british or american spelling?"
"you'll never know just how much i--" you paused.
and waited.
i waited. heat rose to my cheeks, hotter than any sting from a fire. love you, just say it, x. how much i love you, it's part of the song, it doesn't mean you actually do. do you?
"so american spelling?" i continued.
we never referred to that night again. to this day, x, i wonder why you chose that song, in that moment, for that reason, to break that particular silence. this love letter, x, finishes what you didn't say. you took my sunshine away when you failed to trust that i could possibly reciprocate your feelings-- familiar apathy or love. my skies may forever be gray,
because what is now just another night around a pit for you is a heartbreaking moment of regret for me.
love,
a.
nothing else could come between
but now you've left me to love another
you have shattered all of my dreams
No comments:
Post a Comment