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A work of fiction #1
Saturday, May 24, 2014 || 12:51 PM
(I don't have the habit of posting my fictional works here - maybe I should have a site for that - so bear with me if you're only kpo about my life and thoughts and not this shit)
(Disorganised but shit I haven't written in so long)
Dear ,
I cannot bring myself to write your name, because to write it is to think it - and your nomenclature echoed in my head leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Each syllable surfaces an indignant memory I am only trying to drown. You once told me you felt like changing your name because you hate the way it sounds when it comes out of the mouths of the people you despise - note to myself to never say your name again so you never have to feel that way once more (I'm probably on the top of your list of people you hate).
I've always loved your name - when you first introduced yourself I wondered how someone with so many rough edges and bruised palms and skinned kneecaps could have such a pretty and delicate name. I wonder if your parents looked at you when you were a newborn and matched your raw features and essence to a suitable name - gave you the most beautiful name they could think of because despite all newborns looking pretty much the same, you were the most beautiful baby in the Universe to them because they so hopelessly loved you. Or if they planned your name months before, years before you were born - plucked your name from movies or books for their future children knowing that one day you would come along and fill it in.
I think of the way your lips curve when you smile, the way your eyes dart left and right (damn it you're so freaking cute), the brevity of your smirks and the way being with you is almost celestial - and I could not possibly choose another name to fit you; you fit your name perfectly. Being with you is both comfortable and exciting - it is neither one or the other but a perfect synthesis of the two - I'm not exactly sure how you manage to both be the storm and the calm seas but you once told me to question a little less and live a little more so I accepted how you made me feel. You were - no,
are - the most volatile person I know, yet at night when I watch your eyelashes flutter and the veins on your closed eyelids as you lay perfectly still, I wonder how such an effervescent human can be so serene.
We never had any labels and I was never exactly sure of what we were - "Who cares what we are? I'm happy." you would argue. I care. I care. I never retaliated for the fear of losing you but here I am, telling you that I care and that maybe I need labels and despite your free spirit and lack of desire for anything certain, I needed confirmation. I know it's too late and this letter is just me screaming into a void; an eclipse, but damn it, I'm sorry for all the times we fought and all the times I was never honest and maybe if I forced you to talk about the uncertainty that was so alive between us maybe I never would have lost you.
Love,
Me (I choose not to write my name either because you probably don't like reading it as well)
P.S I hope you still take your vitamins. It's flu season.
P.P.S ........ Yeah.
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