What I thought were stars, were tiny holes in the fabric of the night that I had manged to unstitch and unravel from a corner of the dark skies and I realised that it was your light as bright as the sun on the other side. I thought for a while that there was no other woman who could be like you. Wiring my brain with meticulous thoughts, you would ameliorate my worst days and in your presence? I was nothing short of a handful of clay, impressionable to only you. You are good at governing how I feel, as if you've somehow managed to tap into my brain. For a while, it made me feel good, you were happy and consequently I was too. Between the times you'd leave me behind, I'd yearn for your presence, tossing and turning through each possible reason you may have left, ultimately settling for it just being my fault. Then, just like that you'll be back, saying the right words that didn't make me feel so alien. I loved you until it became suffocating; and then I loved you some more. I convinced myself that you were the sole person on this earth that could leave me stunned with awe filled eyes like I was looking at a goddess in the flesh.It felt as if the world itself would cease to orbit and instead plummet itself into the sun in some sort of fiery suicide if you had ever left it.
I turned this thought over in my head several times a day, as if playing a never-ending game of ping pong: wrong, not wrong, wrong-wrong, not-not wrong? Just to relish in this sinking feeling that you'd had made so homely for a little while longer. I didn't want things to become abstract, but I was wrong, no matter how many times I could debate this over and over in my mind. You are not a goddess, nor someone to be placed on a pedestal, time spent with you had merely made me sentimental and that's what made me suffer. If you left today, the world will still revolve, nothing else will change and neither will I, because it was never your light as bright as the sun on the other side, but the light that I wanted you to have.
YOU ARE READING
ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND
Poetrywhat a loss to spend that much time with someone, only to find out that she's a stranger.
