Please stay. I know I'm all odd-angles and rough-edges and an emotionally-stunted mess. I know, words gush out of me too fast and I am too loud, but see, silence scares me and I'm terrified my thoughts aren't real, I'm scared they'll get lost if I don't share them with you, I'm scared they'll disappear. I know, I know, I'm indecisive and unsure, but it's because I'm scared of losing you and I was never very good at loving people; I never learned the right way to do it. And I know, my smiles are wistful and my eyes unfocused, but see - it's because I'm fighting demons inside my head, I'm battling myself, and the thing is, it passes and I get better and when I do, I want you, I always want you. I know - I drink too much and sleep too little; I'm not as funny as I think and my clothes have too many colors and too many patterns, but see - alcohol burns me, so I wouldn't have to burn myself, and sometimes dreams are too scary and they seem too real, so I tell myself jokes at 3am to keep the insanity at bay; and there is no such thing as too many colors , just like there's no such thing as too many thoughts. And see, I know, I know I'm a handful. I know I don't tell you, or show you, I love you, but I do - pay attention to the way I kiss you, to the way I hold your head to my chest, so that you can hear my heart tell you what I can't. I know, all of that, but I still need you to stay. I need you to love me anyway. And I'll try and do better. I'll try and be better. Because I do love you.
YOU ARE READING
His Hands
Short StoryThey were bigger than mine. His hands. Our fingers interlocked without effort and they stayed that way. Home. That's what he was to me. I stare at my hands and I remember. I remember your fingers in mine. I remember your fingers around my neck.
