blue ✓

forty three

harry

I observed my cat dusty sniff around the green gardens, my eyes unfocused as he walked slowly along the soft grass. I was tired, my mind a mess as I sat under the sun with the only living creature that had kept me company this long weekend. My energy resonated inside the emotions I'd kept inside my body. It spiralled around inside me, like balls of lightening running around my mind, and keeping it pacing back and forth every moment of my day and night.

I was too emotional, ever since I'd interacted with Lola's mother I couldn't help but think about my blue eyed girl back with her first–and probably most impacting love. My nights were filled with nightmares of those images, haunting my mind like a dark spirit that used my fears against me to rid me of sleep. And it was working, I was slowly turning into a zombie and the only thing I did was try to sleep, drink coffee, and paint.

Painting was the only way I could express my emotions, the images I create occupying my mind for a short period of time. But soon, I'd be back in the silence of my world and the daunting thoughts came rushing back. It came with disgusting tastes, and an awful feeling in my stomach and chest that pulled me into the ground.

No matter how hard I tried, I will never get her out of my head.

I watch as dusty climbs around the garden as a sigh escapes my parted lips, something sparking inside me as he leaped from a rock to the flower beds below. I take a deep breath, and grab my sketch book from the ground below along with my pencil.

But instead of drawing, I wrote.

I wrote the words that had left my mind feeling heavy, the agonising chest pains that I felt when her lips came into my mind and that sinking feeling, like falling into the ocean with no way back to the surface, as her eyes burned through my skull.

But how could anyone stay so kind with this ache? How could anyone stay happy, with the thoughts of their one and truest love being with another–again. And I suppose I knew how she felt now, whether it was all true or not, whether she loved me still or not.

I understood.

So I wrote everything on that piece of paper, bleeding from my finger tips and seeping into the veins and bones of her universe. I wrote the red hot feeling that overwhelmed me when I kissed her, like the world was taken over by a red sun that made our skin and bones buzz with adrenaline and happiness. I wrote the feeling of her soft skin, and the taste her lips had after a long day in the sun. I wrote about her smile and the way it twitched when I watched her sleep and she sensed it, feeling my eyes burning into her.

But it all had to end.

The magic.

And reality had to come back to us, and it had to take us back to earth and let the stars sleep.

Let's just forget about everything. For now.
Can we talk?

-H

***

"Two souls don't just meet by accident," the words rolled down my spine as she spoke. "You were meant to find each other." And when I stared up at my mothers green eyes, I realised that perhaps she was always right–even more so now–and I hated to admit that.

I nodded my head slowly, reassuring her I was listening as I laid still against my bed. She arrived shortly before, bring tea and advice with her wisdom stained tongue, and I realised today I needed her advice more than ever. I was laid up in this blanket for too long, my cat and agonising thoughts were all that kept me company.