The truth is: I am only half here. I am one of those people who tend to become invisible with time, soaking into everything that surrounds me - into the smoke of cigarettes, into blinking christmas tree lights, into still glowing wicks. Dark red, the glow. I am only half here, and soon, soon I will be gone completely.
When someone you love is gone, dead, you will wait for them to return. You will see them standing right in front of you in the grocery store line whipping back an forth in slow impatience. Or you will see them with their white earphones in dark subway train window reflections. Every time, you will not concentrate properly on something, you will see them. This is what life becomes: a series of small disappointments.
When people ask me why I haven’t got a girlfriend (because they obviously think that everybody should have one) I answer.
I have found it to be incredibly difficult to love those back who loved me first and I am incredibly quick to love those first who don’t love me back.
It’s a simple answer; and everybody understands it.
But that’s what feelings are made for. To communicate inner workings. They were not made for you to enjoy them alone in a small red room in your heart. You have to invite somebody. There is nothing going to happen in your life without investing yourself you know.
