If you’re a writer: “Write when your heart aches.”
If you’re an artist: “Create if you’re bothered.”
If you’re a singer: “Sing a sad song if you wish.”
If you’re a dancer: “Let what you feel be what you do with the beat.”
I am not an artist, a singer, a dancer; I am only a writer. And this is me, writing while my heart aches out of disappointment.
It isn’t surprising that my heart has once again been shattered by the same boy. The VERY same boy. Still, why am I disappointed, if it’s the selfsame boy? Because, if that was the case, I shouldn’t be shocked, right? For a span of few months, he made me live in this world where we were together. A world I would gladly choose back then without skipping a beat. A world where I thought this time, this could be it. He is my future.
But the record scratches and the frames fall and shatter, and that future was again taken away from me. You, yes you, the very same boy I fall for every goddamn time, had let words slip out of your mouth and meaning not a single word. I know you’ve said that I’ve always doubted you, and that it’s mostly my fault why we fell apart now, but, can you blame me? I won’t put out my reasoning.
So tell me, why is it that I always fall for you? Why do you keep coming back and I keep letting you in? Is this a curse? A spell? No, it’s goddamn reality, and that’s sad.