fezhini

[fezhini]

From memory

I remember the first time we met, me sitting with the dogs in the patio and you with an angry look on your eyes and an old sweater on. At that point in time I had no idea what was in for us, did you? Be honest with me, was it always your dream to be with a 15 year old when you were 20? If you say no I won't believe you.

In your infinite adult wisdom you knew 5 words in Spanish total, everyone else knew 5 words in English total, so lucky me had to be the translator between you and our families, I guess that was the start of the cursed relationship we ended up having, or maybe it was the time you told me how smoking weed was the thing that got you sent back to Mexico and you asked me to keep it a secret, I was desperate to have a friend so I agreed, which led me to agree to everything you asked, to keep all your secrets, to help with everything you wanted. Were we even friends? Did you even liked me at all? I really wish I could think that way about you, but it is much too late for us.

For years I was so confused, why did you do the things you did? Why didn't you think of me? Of how much all that was affecting me? You were so selfish, always thinking of you, always wanting more from me, always pushing and expecting. I tore myself apart to give you every inch of my soul, so you could be satisfied, but you never were. Instead I turned into a shell of myself, so empty I couldn't function, so lost nobody knew what to do with me.

Then you left, in my 19th birthday, you went back to your life in the US, acted as if nothing happened, continued on with your life, moved on to something new and exciting. And I stayed, in the same place, the same way you left me, stuck for the longest time.

I wish I could forgive you, but it took everything in me to go back to functioning, to look like a normal person. I can't. I hate you, I don't want you to get over it.

Writing things for you hurts my ego, I've already waisted too much time on this, too much time crying and hurting for this and the worst of it all is that I don't think you even care, I don't think it affected you in any way, for you it was the most boring years of your life, for me, well, I'll never be the same.

[fezhini]

Creative writing

I honestly don't know how to star a blog but I thought, why not share some random writing then?

There's air flowing through the space, how? The tree line is so thick and full, it seems unlikely, yet, the cold air makes my nose stuffy, however, I can still smell the grass, the moss, the pine trees. There's a certain coldness in the air, but it's not really bothering me at all, my mind is focused on the horizon.

Beautiful shades of pink, orange and red color the light that filters trough the trees, it makes everything shine like a watercolor painting, it makes me forget everything else, the itchiness of the grass and the root of the huge tree I'm siting on, the goosebumps crawling through my spine, the wetness of the dirt under my legs.

I take a moment to feel admiration for the beautiful scenery, in front of me the sun stops me from seeing the end of the forest. I look to my left, more trees beautifully illuminated, behind me the same. I know I have to look to my right, there's a clock somewhere I cannot see, hurrying me, pushing me to look, so I do.

A clearing, a little far, being illuminated by something else, I have time, I could make it there no problem, if I stood up and started walking, there would still be sun out. I stay still. My heart is beating so hard on my chest it starts to hurt and I have to breath through my mouth. I'm uninjured, perfectly fine, my legs work because they brought me here at some point, so I definitely can make it. I stay still.

I don't know how long it has been but the pink, orange and red have morphed into purple and soft blue, I can make it, walking fast enough I can make it, right now is my chance. So I stay still.

I'm so scared, I'm terrified. Why? What is going on? I don't understand. I look up, desperate, the moon coming out, weak against the ever burning sun, interrupted by the tree tops, but still there. I'm so scared I could scream my head off but there's no sound coming out of my mouth. I look at the moon until my eyes burn and then until my neck hurts, in denial, I can't look away.

But I have to look, towards the sun, one last blinding ray of sunshine and then darkness. Run! You can still make it, hurry up! And I stay still. Finally resting my back against the tree trunk, there's so many tears running down my face, soaking my shirt, but I didn't realize I was crying at all. A hopeful glimpse at the full moon, but she is not paying attention to me, so I close my eyes.