Topic: Watching someone you love be in love with someone else
It Was Cold Outside
It was cold outside but all I could concentrate on was watching the way the snowflakes fell so in love with the earth that they laid against her surface until they died. The powder sprinkling from the sky lined my eyelashes with sparkles but my lips were chapped and my heart was frozen over twice in my chest because you really do not start to notice just how alone you can feel even when you are surrounded by people that love you enough to melt the ice from your soul until you lost the love of someone that you thought would outlast the sea herself.
It was cold outside when you could no longer look into my eyes, only at them. A mote had been forged around the barren wastelands of my irises that you no longer wanted to swim through. Yes, you looked at my eyes more with pity than with compassion and told me that you needed a break and that’s when I knew that my heart had done just that. You told me you were sorry but I don’t know if you meant it nor did I know what you were apologizing for. Believe me, I wanted to hold it against you, the fact that I was no longer a sweet salvation but an uncomfortable obstacle that you couldn’t quite get out of your way, even though I had the key to every crevice of your world that we had once explored together. Maybe you were sorry because you knew how I was afraid of the dark and without your hand to hold, I just might drown in it. But, instead I tried to be proud of you for being strong enough to push your hero complex into your peripherals and save yourself instead of being sucked into the blackness with me. I’m sorry for clogging your throat with need every time you tried to breathe; it was just new to me, being some shadow that stung with every step you took that connected with it. I’m sorry; I just thought I was wanted…
It was cold outside when I saw your pink cheeks get brighter from the curvature of her smile, and not from the bitter cold that was biting my ankles with ever second I stood frozen in time. I looked at you and you looked at her the way you used to look at me and I wondered if it would always be like this. I wondered if I would always be curling up at night with empty bottles and razorblades, thinking about her curling up with your spiral-locks and chocolate eyes and freckled stomach.
It was cold outside when I imagined you as you once were, yet always have been. A little boy, too tough for his own good to protect that soft caramel center that could attract enough beasts to get you killed by the time the sun had set. I imagined your rosy smile and bright eyes and runny nose you wouldn’t bother wiping, holding a little red balloon with barely enough helium to fill a lung.
It was cold outside when I imagined you letting go of that balloon and not taking the time to watch it fall up into the sky, being battered by the icy fangs of the winter wind. It was cold outside when I watched you let me go and it was cold outside when I wondered if you ever looked at her and felt guilty because it made you think of me; shriveled up and covered in my own blood that seeped out of wounds that spelled your name on the bathroom floor with a phone in my hand with your breath quivering through the speakers and an empty pill bottle in the other.
It was cold outside when you twirled her around once and pulled her back into your arms like she was your diamond yoyo on a string and I was a weight on your ankle that was not heavy enough to be a hindrance.
It was cold outside when they hosted my funeral and I was the only one who attended. We said goodbye near the train-tracks and wrote all of our names in the snow which clung to the rusty metal that worked as a northern star for a steam engine robot; leading it’s path when it got dark. Everyone got a chance to speak, but nobody had much to say. After all, by the time she was dead, there wasn’t much left inside her anyways. They hoped she’d died happy. She hadn’t. But, she had died empty.
It was cold outside when I wondered if broken kids go to hell, then she wishes to see you all soon because nobody passes through the jaws of this life in one piece. There are rumors about a personalized heaven for everyone who gets to go and I think the same concept might be relevant here in Limbo. I think it’s funny they call it Limbo because everyone here looks real low.
It was cold outside and inside and everywhere in between at every hour of the day. This Limbo, I think is the worst kind of Limbo because you are not even allowed to be dead. You must carry the weight of your own empty shell and wake up strapped down against a cold table if you try to die early, that you don’t really think is cold because after all, you are made of ice and forged of fire if you are here.
It was cold outside when I knew you didn’t love me anymore.
It was cold outside when I knew I wouldn’t make it without you.
It was cold the rest of my life while I had to.
