Saturday, 14 February 2009

• Currently Frances The Mute By The Mars Volta Frances the Mute see related

  In honor of Valentine's Day: a letter to the first (and so far, only) boy I ever loved

  It was scary, I'll admit. And most things don't scare me; I don't get scared easily, you know that. I didn't really understand. I guess an ode to my naivete, haha. It was weird, this swelling in my chest between my heart and diaphragm. Funny how one of the reason's you loved me was because I could spell stuff like that. It felt like a star was going supernova inside of me. Like a ball of white-hot light was exploding in my chest, making it hard to breathe, shining its rays through my skin. I felt like I was glowing. I felt like I was untouchable, this blessed light keeping me warm and safe. I wanted to laugh and scream at the same time. I wanted to "sound my barbaric yawp". I loved how you got/understood obscure poetic references like that. When it ended, do you remember that night? The light shattered. The glass flew everywhere. I could feel it piercing the heart, lungs, filling them with something that drained out through my eyes, which were pierced too. I cried myself to sleep that night. I cried myself to wake the next morning. I remember my friend having a reconciliation with her ex the same night we broke up, and feeling too exhausted to feel the customary secret resentment. The shards are still there. When I breathe, they stick to my ribs, chipping them away with every inhalation. With each beat, the shards broke smaller and smaller, flowing through my bloodstream, embedding themselves in my skin. They're embedded in my fingertips, my toes, all of me. In my eyes, there are shards in my retinas, a new lens replacing the rose-coloured cataracts you had put there, filtering all I see so I see the shards with everything. Traces of you in everything. I have no tears left. 'Tis sort of numb. I just want you to know: The memories I have are bittersweet. I still think of some moments, like when you said "I love you" for the first time, and I smile. But the shards pulse. And I frown. It was scary, the unfamiliar feeling of loving someone who loved me. Who didn't have to. Most people are loved by someone, like their parents. We're more or less societally and morally commanded and bound to love our parents, but it isn't the same. I must say, when we were together, I was the happiest I'd been in a long time. Even when bad stuff happened, I just tolld myself, "hey. guess what? someone loves you!" and poof: the bad stuff wasn't so bad anymore. Now bad stuff happens and it's......sorta suckish, because I'll say, "hey, it isn't so bad, mom loves you!" And I say, "it's not the same," and I'll feel selfish and feel even worse and depressed and hopeless. The biggest shard says that I should be happy because you've found someone else, and I deeply and truly am. I want you to have a wonderful life with or without me. But, as the shards are now and forever part of me, I will love you until I die, with all the fibres of my being. They say that children see the truth, and are normally truthful, because "out the mouth of babes..", but they dismiss young relationships as "puppy love". I am only 14 years old. Do you think of what I listed above as "puppy love"? Or is "winged Cupid painted blind"?

   

  * So, I am typing this in the perfect colour of blue, which just so happened to be the exact colour of your eyes, weird.*

   

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