loving him was like hurtling myself
into the goddamn sun.
i knew it was bad for me, i knew i shouldn't have done it, but i loved him till my bones ached
and even when my skin began to flail. i couldn't stop until eventually, i grew accustomed to the heat. so much so that, without him, i felt i couldn't breathe.
i remember how, sometimes i would hold him for hours and he would keep me warm with his words, his touch, the gesticulations of affection i percieved to be only for me.
i was wrong.
perhaps i was blinded. he was beautiful.
he is beautiful, and beautiful people tend
to make a fool out of me. honestly, he had a face
that belonged in the louvre but his beauty was not only skin deep. his beauty was evident in the way he smiled at me like i was the only thing that could ever make him happy; in the way he paced himself so we would always walk side by side; in his voice,
like deep honey- so sweet, intoxicating even.
in acknowledgement of all these attributes,
i should have known from the very beginning
that i was fucked.
