a n i m a

there goes the fear

dedicated to alyssa because I really miss her and she made that lovely cover over there for us orchestra geeks xo

 "close your brown eyes
 and lay down next to me
 close your eyes, lay down
'cause there goes the fear
 let it go."

➳➳➳➳

The clicking of his computer keys filled the hollow apartment. Each word he typed- conjured up from the harbored memories of his lost love- matched the dour pitter patter of rain hitting the window beside him. It flooded the glass, every raindrop taunting him with broken dreams. With a sigh, his fingers stilled on the keys, the silence thankfully blanketed with the storm outside. He hated when it was quiet. Silence led his mind to wander. And it wandered to the same place every time. Those brown eyes.

He chewed his lip, staring at the words in front of him; all of them blurring together until the only words he could see was she's gone. He hated the loneliness that had descended upon him when she left, the way it crept up his spine, chilling him to the point where goosebumps covered his skin and a jacket was always slung across his shoulders. But most of all he hated his despondent lack of progress.

Her absence was haunting. Often times he'd sit and look around at his austere apartment, seeing the ghost of her. He saw her dancing in front of his old stereo, the melody tangling in her auburn hair as she spun. He felt her warm hand covering his as she pulled him from the couch. And he heard her sweet, infectious laughter as his two left feet nearly trampled her bare ones.

But then, just as he would start to smile, his lips turning oh so gently north for the first time in ages, she would disappear. Her hair would fade and soon his hands would become cold. And he'd be left merely with the memory of her eyes, wide and playful and filled with so much of his soul, her chocolate irises were magnified.

With a deep breath, he pushed himself out of his office chair, his back stiff from the hours spent staring at the screen and trying to write of anything but her. But every time, as his fingers started to type of unknown people in unknown placed, he began describing her smile, how bright and calming it was. And he would once again- for what had to be the millionth time- become baffled by the fact that someone was that beautiful.

Placing his thick reading glasses on the desk, he rubbed his eyes roughly, praying as he sauntered to the kitchen that they wouldn't play tricks on him. He pulled out a mug and filled it with coffee, chugging the lukewarm liquid before filling the glass again. She'd always wondered how he drank it black and he would tell her to never change something that's already perfect. And she'd roll her eyes and he'd laugh, kissing her on the temple before making her a glass of tea.

Back at his desk, he sipped his coffee, staring out the window at the city beyond. He wondered how many people, the ones hurrying down the street with umbrellas to keep them dry, had loved. Truly loved. Because so many times, love is a lie. And he wondered how many were like him, trying to forget the love that wasn't a lie. A love that was so true the sky didn't seem that far away, and happily ever after was no longer an unreachable prospect of fairytales.

"None," he whispered.

He turned back to his computer screen, the blinking cursor mocking him. Finally, after an ample amount of time staring, he finished his coffee and placed the cup to the side, pressing down on the backspace key without pause. If she had been there, she would have come up behind him with a fresh cup of coffee, wrapping her long arms around him, her soft lips pressing into his jaw. And she'd tell him how proud he made her and how he had a mind writers prayed for each night. And then, as if her being held powers or filled him with his own, he would begin to type. Type verses so marvelous, excitement would rumble inside of him and he'd take her hand and spin her around, telling her how much he loved her.