Moonlit Goodbye.
The type that echoes in whispers.
o~o~o
No one talks about how quiet it is. How quiet it is that you can hear how loudly your heart beats against your chest in want for them. How quietly you love that person you can’t have. How the thought of them makes you want to scream but it all gets stuck in your throat. It sits there like words choked by an invisible fist. The rejection was loving. It understood.
This is why it hurts me. I felt it wasn’t necessary, I was hoping I was good enough to make him not to let go. I thought he’ll hold me tightly, just enough. All it took was a text and I fell head in first. Next it was curiosity made me ask, and just like that something in me shifted. I wanted to know everything. How many strands of hair were on his head, his most embarrassing moments, what his fart even smelt like, all the cringe things I could possibly imagine.
Not his eyes, not his smiles or the way the sweet words he said made his lips look sexy, it was just a feeling I couldn’t explain. I fell leaving my brain on the doorstep and the rest of my soul followed. He came when life was getting realer, a lot of things complicated but in the evenings he made he made it easy. He made it all perfect.
And through distance and time. My love ran deep. Fueling a fire I knew i had ignited. It sunk deeper. My pool wouldn’t run dry. The fire couldn’t be quenched. I wanted him to be part of my mornings, and my last thoughts before I shut my eyes. Too beautifully painful that I didn’t want it to end, but it may have ended before it even started.
I’m afraid that’s when I hate denial the most. It could have been a “what if”. It could have been questions I asked, some answerable, some intolerable , others rhetorical. And shortly I started to hate hope the most. Hope told me “give him some time”. Hope told me “it’s never meant to be easy”. Hope told me “soon you’ll be valued and your efforts will be seen”, but reality gave me the hard pill to swallow.
He started to slip away when I wanted to tell him everything I’ve been thinking about, where it stung and where it tickled. I just didn’t know if he’d be kind enough to listen. Kind enough to admit that he feels it too.
Maybe that’s why it’s a whispered goodbye. A silent prayer when the moon shines brightly in the night sky. It is calm. It isn’t as chaotic as expected. He’ll be the tears that don’t necessarily mean pain just something comforting.
Maybe one day I’ll look at him and not dream or expect what could have possibly been. I might just smile or shrug or chuckle when I see my favorite picture of him. It would be beautifully painful because he’ll look complete without me by his side.
I’ll only hope his happy days are brighter than his sad days. I’ll only hope memories of what we had will be etched in a safe pocket of his heart. Not forgotten, just reminisced more often to stir curiosity of what I’m possibly up to at the moment.
I’ll pray he meets someone of his dreams. Someone who completes hiM. Someone he’d carry in his heart. In his wallet. Someone whose name will always be on the tip of his tongue. Someone he’ll long to see when the sky is getting dark. Someone he’ll talk all his vulnerabilities to.
Someone to look at him days he feels less a man and tell him she’s proud of him. Someone who won’t just whisper a prayer to the moon like I do, but to the stars, to the sun and the constellations that approves their Union.
And maybe if our paths ever cross, maybe at some gathering or at a local market. Our eyes would greet, our hearts would hug, the noise will disappear and everything will stop in a millisecond. Just a whispered “I hope you’re happy” or a “I’ll always love you”.
Just a moonlit goodbye.
~Jartsafespace:)