feelingsileftunsaid

[feelingsileftunsaid]

I feel small today. Like everything isn't the right size anymore, I don't fit into myself, I can't fit inside my brain. There's just so much going on and I am overwhelmed by grief. So I wrote something about it and it's not good it's just what I'm feeling right now.

My crush died.

Now, don't get me wrong, I wasn't in love with her nor did I know her enough to fall. But well, you don't really have to know the person to feel deeply fucking infatuated with them. So, where was I when I heard the news? Drunk, at a party, drinking lime and vodka and a friend told me: "I have bad news, do you want to hear them?" And I said, like a fucking fool "Yeah, if it is really bad then I can just get more drunk" AND THEN she says: "someone died" and me, always innocent, not believing for a second I would cry about it, asked her "who". I didn't like the answer to that. I still cannot fathom that she simply does not exist anymore. I tried, the only image I had of her, was a smiling one, someone passionate about books and art and literature and languages but not life itself, I guess. The point of me writing this is: I need to put into words everything, from what I saw in her and what we could've been and what she could have accomplished. Because, hear me out, I looked at her and I saw a glimpse of a future that ain't fucking mine anymore, never was. Of days discussing very old literary works and me being completely fascinated by her, besotted, as one should, and intimidated because she was that smart. Days where I would just lay by her and listen to her speaking french and asking for hugs, kisses, cuddles, love. Just asking anything and oh I would give her the world if it would only mean that she could have what she wanted. I saw glimpses of sleepless nights laying under the stars, me telling her about the galaxy, making up one or two constellations, giving them her name, making up words in Latin,  knowing she would see right through my bullshit and say nothing cause she would be just as besotted as I am. As I was. I saw her, enjoying life. Why couldn't she? I saw her loving life as it loved her, running through the aisles of a grocery store or in her own home, her bare feet touching the cold titles of the floor and waking her up a little bit more, her breakfast ready to go, done as quickly as she could, as fast as the time granted to her, leaving home, going out, working, studying, reading, listening to music on an actual old fucking record player, a small place in her room which holds the secrets of her soul and the many records she scratched by playing it too much, cameras all around her room as well as pictures taken by her of her friends, she is not on frame, this is just how she sees the world, sees them, the people she loved, people who love her. A future full of what ifs and uncertainties that she does not have anymore. The places where you've been now carry your pain, sorrow, whys, wrongs, suffering, tears. You've been in my heart, so now I carry your smiles, your passion, your love, happiness, joy, rights, beauty. And I will carry our could've beens, could've becomes, I will, because you can't, not anymore. I will remember you, because that's all I have left of you, memories. I hope someday I don't agonize myself over what ifs, knowing what happened to you, but I know it won't be today. I hope you are happy in heaven the way you couldn't be here.