NOTE: Firstly, I haven't written a piece simply because I wanted to for a while now. Last night I got rather inspired and wrote and wrote and wrote. This just pretty much spilled from me, which means I haven't edited other than just what I wrote in that one sitting. Enjoy. Comments appreciated.
What do you do when you realise that everybody you fell for felt nothing?
What do you do when you notice that you’ve landed face down only to stare up and watch them walk away?
Do you get back up on your own two feet and walk away, or do you run after them?
You watch as they shoot down all those stars in the sky, all those hopes you’ve pinned to them fall to your feet. With every star, every piece that topples out of the sky, a piece of you shatters with it. You try to gather every shard, each pricking your fingers, your palms, piercing the skin, turning blue to red – a reminder of him, of her, of them.
A figure in the distance, a speck in your past, you contemplate your next step. Every time you set your heart on the line, you watch it rip from every seam, spilling the love it contains all over the cold pearly white tiles. Every rip, every tear stains, never truly coming out – a mark, a reminder of him, of her, of them.
As you turn to move away the figure in the distance is no longer in the distance, but within arms reach. A sudden jerk, a muscle spasm, a sudden urge to surrender to old habits. You watch as the demon of old habits battle the shield of willpower. A soft smile sweeps across from cheek to cheek, both gently colouring rosy pink. Your mind, your brain, a movie reel begins to replay scenes kept in the secret vault you thought you had sealed away, never to reopen. Each movie with new alterations of this moment, this very tangible moment where they are tangible, you are tangible, and the moment vulnerable. Before the movie reel comes to a halt time stands still, your demon has won.
Seeing eye to eye, you peer through the windows of their soul, hoping to find remnants of you within them. Hopelessly hoping that you’ll find something, anything with you in it. Movie reels empty, heart seams tearing, your hopes are once again shattered. Their stare blank suddenly bursts into shock, disbelief and draws away out of arms reach. You, on autopilot, shoot out an arm, beckoning them not to go, to stay one moment more. With every breath you inhale a bit of them, their familiar scent lingering, reigniting moments long gone.
As your conscious mind fills the crevices you notice the girlish fingers, hand, arm around him, around her, around them. You look up, watching as she stands in your place beside them, almost teasingly. Those months of healing, those months of re-seaming your heart, of pinning every star back in the dark abyss of the night sky, wasted. Everything once again comes apart; those new seams singe before combusting, a flame burning through every last thread. The pins loosen and the stars once again rain down upon you, harder and more piercing then ever. What had once shattered to a thousand pieces now lay in a million.
You had wandered through the streets of your life aimlessly, meandering, hoping to move on, but all you were doing was reminiscing. They had truly moved on, had left you behind, begun a new chapter, and all you can do is stare, wondering how things always worked out for them and not for you. They shatter YOUR heart, ruin YOUR hopes and dreams and left you to pick it all up as they led a new life without you.
Before long you look up noticing everyone in the world had moved on, everybody in world had somebody else, except you. You sit in the puddle that is your seeping love and shattered hopes, hoping once more that miracles happen, that someone out there would notice and take you in their arms telling you that everything will be all right, that they’ll be there for you no matter what. They’ll be there for you like you were for everyone else; they’ll never leave you.
As you open your eyes, the curtains draw to reveal a solemn day not unlike every other day. You turn to reveal an empty bed; it had always been empty, never filled, a glass half empty. They left shoes too big to fill, so you left them empty with memories, of altered movie reels superimposed to the point where reality was fantasy.
You gently slide out of bed, careful not to have sudden movements that would reopen old wounds. You live in a life of bubble wrap, where everything has a protective sheen ensuring not its safety but your own. They say you learn from your mistakes, that once you fall you pick yourself right up again, but you can only do that so many times. After sixty years, there have been enough mistakes made, enough shattered stars and seaming hearts mended. One can only take so much.
An envelope pierces your bubble wrap home, your only contact with the world outside your own. Each soft tug pulsed through your veins resonating in adrenalin through you. Out peeped a white note from him, from her, from them. A soft smile sweeps across from cheek to cheek, both gently colouring rosy pink under the dampened skin. Each word seeping through your fingers filling your heart with something you felt years ago, something you last felt as they shot down your stars and tore your heart from seam to seam. Addressed to you laid their final word, their final letter. Them, no different to you, sitting alone in a bubble wrap world, the pain never ceased, still their reasons unclear.
“You heart wasn’t the only one shattered, your stars weren’t the only ones shot down. If one bleeds, the other does to. We will never be apart again.”
You watch as they shoot down all those stars in the sky, all those hopes you’ve pinned to them fall to your feet. With every star, every piece that topples out of the sky, a piece of you shatters with it. You try to gather every shard, each pricking your fingers, your palms, piercing the skin, turning blue to red – a reminder of him, of her, of them.
A figure in the distance, a speck in your past, you contemplate your next step. Every time you set your heart on the line, you watch it rip from every seam, spilling the love it contains all over the cold pearly white tiles. Every rip, every tear stains, never truly coming out – a mark, a reminder of him, of her, of them.
As you turn to move away the figure in the distance is no longer in the distance, but within arms reach. A sudden jerk, a muscle spasm, a sudden urge to surrender to old habits. You watch as the demon of old habits battle the shield of willpower. A soft smile sweeps across from cheek to cheek, both gently colouring rosy pink. Your mind, your brain, a movie reel begins to replay scenes kept in the secret vault you thought you had sealed away, never to reopen. Each movie with new alterations of this moment, this very tangible moment where they are tangible, you are tangible, and the moment vulnerable. Before the movie reel comes to a halt time stands still, your demon has won.
Seeing eye to eye, you peer through the windows of their soul, hoping to find remnants of you within them. Hopelessly hoping that you’ll find something, anything with you in it. Movie reels empty, heart seams tearing, your hopes are once again shattered. Their stare blank suddenly bursts into shock, disbelief and draws away out of arms reach. You, on autopilot, shoot out an arm, beckoning them not to go, to stay one moment more. With every breath you inhale a bit of them, their familiar scent lingering, reigniting moments long gone.
As your conscious mind fills the crevices you notice the girlish fingers, hand, arm around him, around her, around them. You look up, watching as she stands in your place beside them, almost teasingly. Those months of healing, those months of re-seaming your heart, of pinning every star back in the dark abyss of the night sky, wasted. Everything once again comes apart; those new seams singe before combusting, a flame burning through every last thread. The pins loosen and the stars once again rain down upon you, harder and more piercing then ever. What had once shattered to a thousand pieces now lay in a million.
You had wandered through the streets of your life aimlessly, meandering, hoping to move on, but all you were doing was reminiscing. They had truly moved on, had left you behind, begun a new chapter, and all you can do is stare, wondering how things always worked out for them and not for you. They shatter YOUR heart, ruin YOUR hopes and dreams and left you to pick it all up as they led a new life without you.
Before long you look up noticing everyone in the world had moved on, everybody in world had somebody else, except you. You sit in the puddle that is your seeping love and shattered hopes, hoping once more that miracles happen, that someone out there would notice and take you in their arms telling you that everything will be all right, that they’ll be there for you no matter what. They’ll be there for you like you were for everyone else; they’ll never leave you.
As you open your eyes, the curtains draw to reveal a solemn day not unlike every other day. You turn to reveal an empty bed; it had always been empty, never filled, a glass half empty. They left shoes too big to fill, so you left them empty with memories, of altered movie reels superimposed to the point where reality was fantasy.
You gently slide out of bed, careful not to have sudden movements that would reopen old wounds. You live in a life of bubble wrap, where everything has a protective sheen ensuring not its safety but your own. They say you learn from your mistakes, that once you fall you pick yourself right up again, but you can only do that so many times. After sixty years, there have been enough mistakes made, enough shattered stars and seaming hearts mended. One can only take so much.
An envelope pierces your bubble wrap home, your only contact with the world outside your own. Each soft tug pulsed through your veins resonating in adrenalin through you. Out peeped a white note from him, from her, from them. A soft smile sweeps across from cheek to cheek, both gently colouring rosy pink under the dampened skin. Each word seeping through your fingers filling your heart with something you felt years ago, something you last felt as they shot down your stars and tore your heart from seam to seam. Addressed to you laid their final word, their final letter. Them, no different to you, sitting alone in a bubble wrap world, the pain never ceased, still their reasons unclear.
“You heart wasn’t the only one shattered, your stars weren’t the only ones shot down. If one bleeds, the other does to. We will never be apart again.”
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