Shattered hearts

25- Writing

I can almost feel the stars presence above me. Tears run down my face but I stay silence. Not a single peep.

Taking a quick glance behind me I see Millie resting in my bed, fast asleep. I know I probably didn't show it but I'm in love with these letters. Just knowing how much I'm actually cared for, knowing I will never be forgotten...

In my books that's what it means to be in love.

The pages feel delicate, an almost vintage sense. They smell like perfume like they've been stuck bundled together tightly in a corner for years. But as I read more and more letters I notice how they get closer and closer to the present.

As i read, I clench the paper ever so gently. The last thing I would want to do is crease or rip the pages.

I see her heart in the words her emotions in the paper.

'Dear Aiko,

I hope you fall in love. Maybe love doesn't have to be with someone. Fall in love with music, the sound of rain pouring solemnly to the ground below, art, dancing in the dark, the glistening of the stars or the smell of flowers. Maybe it will be the feeling of adrenaline that takes over your body, suffocating your lungs with joy. 

Good friends who bring out the best in you, the feeling of being free and un-judged, noise, silence, the clouds or the colours of the sun when it rises and sets. I hope you fall in the love with the little things that make you feel alive and in the moment. I hope you find purpose and fall in love with life just like I'm trying to with mine. But let's not make this about me. I want you to be the main character in my story, remember?'

'Dear Aiko,

Isn't it funny how day by day nothing changes, but when you look back everything is different? Is it how I perceive life or how I live it? Was it my actions or thoughts or how they both coordinate together. Sometimes I wish life was a book so I could sneak a look at the last few pages just to make sure everything turks out ok. Maybe that's why I write. 

There's no anxiety, no anticipation. I find it hard to read a book because I have such a low attention span but without ideas how can I put words into paper? I hate my thoughts but maybe I shouldn't. Maybe I should be grateful for my creativity. Grateful that thoughts come and go and I can put pen to paper. Maybe I write because it makes me feel like someone's listening. Or am I finally listening to myself? Or maybe I'm finally listening to you? I may be the writer but you'll always be the words.'

'Dear Aiko,

"Your anger is the part of you that knows your mistreatment and abuse is unacceptable. Your anger knows you deserve to be treated well and with kindness. Your anger is a part of you that loves you."

My therapist told me this today. All my life I had been stuck around the conception that I have anger issues, since that's all I've been told. 'Lower your temper,' 'why are you so angry all the time,' 'don't blow up Millie,' 'don't get mad,' 'you do have anger issues! If you didn't you wouldn't be mad right now.'

Your not born thinking a certain thing or a certain way. Your life experiences pave a way for your thoughts. My therapists I probably right, I just can't bring myself to realise it yet. I want to get better hit can't bring myself to do it. I can say I believe what she says but do I?

Or do I just want to to the point I think maybe if I say I do it'll be true. Maybe if I can trick myself into it. But maybe that's a stupid idea because it never works. 'Your anger loves you.'

But do I love my anger? No but why not? Maybe because I've always been criticised for it, felt bad about it, bottled up my emotions in fear someone will judge me or I'll hurt someone because of something I'll say in the moment.

Maybe that's why sometimes I feel i don't have a voice. Maybe that's why I write? Though am I writing to you or for me? Or is doing something for myself selfish? The concepts of good and bad is a social construct.

'No one notices your sadness until it turns into anger, and then your the bad person.' Maybe that's why this saying is true. Maybe I say maybe way too much. I should be more certain.'

'Dear Aiko,

How do you know if your in love? You live in the silences between my thoughts, the gaps of darkness weeding through the stars and brightening the sky. Is that what it means to be in love?

Maybe I'm trying too hard to find an answer to something that doesn't have an answer. Maybe you are the answer. You are the answer and I am trying too hard.
I need to stop saying maybe. But maybe if I try hard enough I can manifest your love.

When the time is right you will see me again. We will go on dates and see your favourite things. Everything will revolve around you just as I like it. Hopefully you like that too.

We'll watch the sunsets together and watch the star. Talk until we run out of words, which won't happen until the end of time because trust me. I have a lot to take about.

I want to tell you everything. We will buy a house together, with a cat. Am i moving too fast? Maybe I shouldn't be so certain. Am I being demanding? Maybe it's good to live with uncertainty? But how would I know I'm just a kid.'

'Dear Aiko,

'Just a kid.' Did I really write that? I guess in the end we're only atoms, drifting alone, desperate for something to cling onto. Can I cling onto you? Or is that also me moving too fast? The more time goes on the more uncertain I get because I realise more. Maybe if I just stop trying to know more and focus on what I know I'll be less uncertain. But why would I want to do that. I want to know more about you Aiko, where are you? Will I ever see you again or are you forever lost in my thoughts as a dream, as a memory. 

Like a book that is discontinued, never picked up again. Today I was told my my dad I can be anything I want though I was told by my mum I should be what she wants. Does my mum want to have foreseen a page in her book? Or does dad want a new beginning? Maybe a new end? Something exciting, something you wouldn't have just guessed. I could be anything in the world but I want to be yours. I wonder if one day I'll find you again and you'll read over this. If so hello Aiko, how are you? I hope our books are still being written. Maybe written together? Or maybe I should be more like dad, not trying to foresee a page in my book. Though is that really so bad? 

There's too many unanswered questions with too many opportunities but somehow at the same time still not enough. Can one being ever be everything you wanted, enough to fulfil another's destiny? Or is that too cliche? Help me be for certain Aiko. The stars tell me to.'

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Hope you enjoyed <333

Word Count: 1298

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