Souvenir

Part 9

Their words cut through me like a serrated knife,

A wound never healing,

Didn't know I would try trusting someone again,

But I guess I fall easily.

I hear a thousand words, as they cut through me like knives.

Her wishes, and teases, I imagine her smile,

Few words but enough for me to hide behind.

In a sense of security, to which even I don't know why.

Why do I have a stupid smile on my face, seeing your texts?

Or why, am I not hurt anymore by others with those constant accusations, 

Their words, and their demeanor, even if they hurt or ignore me?

Why do I feel like I shouldn't care about those anymore?

It's a good thing, I guess.

But why..?

I don't know...or do I?

I don't want to know or admit I know, the answer to that rhetorical question. 

Cause, in the end, I just want you by my side, like we are now.

That in and itself is enough.

Or is it?

Even though I know it isn't

Loving someone so much, that you would like them as a friend,

 Just to have them in your life.