i wrote this to you a while ago now. i think i'm now comfortable enough to let it out in the open. i doubt you'll ever read this, and even if you did you wouldn't understand most of it or probably even know it was for you. i guess your'e not really supposed to.. no one is.
and i tried to tell you one of those nights in july. after the snow had etched tears upon my heart. but you were always laughing and making fun, i was afraid and feeling too vulnerable. and i couldn’t feel you there, not all of you, maybe half. i felt your arms and your hair and the awkward shaped bed beneath us but not your soul, not your heart. and i felt like i was meant to be there then but yet that i should run away from you all together. i wanted to tell you everything but my thoughts don’t always connect well with my mouth and most of it was irrelevant, except the fact they were apart of me and who i was. i wanted you to know but there was just too much to say and the wind outside told me to be quiet. you reminded me of the way i felt in high school. when everything was beautiful because the world was still dangerous, like a wild secret, like it held the greatest possibility that you could fall in love with anybody. you smelt like alcohol and i smelt like tears. you didn't seem to care about the fact that my face was wet with that snow. i felt this there as we lay but i couldn't tell if it was not caring because you loved me for who i was despite this or not caring because you genuinely didn't care about me at all. you were a closed book and that's what you were, your pages could never be read and i'm not entirely sure that even you know what's written on them to this day. i wanted to tell you about those nights when my feet were hot with blood and my eyes were painted the wrong colour. how my finger uncontrollably pointed towards nothingness and uncertainty and i ran straight for an hour towards the stars who's shoulders reached out, calling for me. i wanted to tell you about the darkness and how scared i get sometimes. you laugh at how tough i am but i wish you knew the other truth, my darkness. i wanted to tell you how i’d felt God once, but i guess i’ll never tell you that. i wanted to tell you how you made me feel and what you meant and i wanted to know what i mean to you but the nights danced away like sail-boats and everything you ever gave me was reversed the very next time i saw you. i was confused and you were strong minded, you wasted our days with nothingness and in the end i had nothing either, barely even memories. your real words were rare like those times when real life for a fraction of a second actually feels like real life. i guess that's why now i feel like i never actually ever knew you. i always wished ever so badly that you’d hold my hand or touch me so i could feel your heart though your fingertips. just to know that you knew i was there and that i was special and that i was different and that i was beautiful. and just cause you could. but none of that ever happened and i never did believe any of it was true. you were always wary and i was hopeful. but hope dies a slow death just like the snow in spring, melting crystal by crystal until there's none left, nothing remains. i had a dream about you one night; i hadn't heard from you in a while, i guess you were too busy for me and you were holding a girl on your lap. i'd ignored you for sometime, preoccupied with those who were after my soul and convincing myself that i didn't care. but you built up inside of me as if the stars were overcrowding in the sky and i kicked you towards her so your lips touched like razors cutting into me. and when you looked at me your eyes were blank, just like maybe those pages inside you are. i had no idea how you felt. and you were always careless and guiltless, nothing ever phased you. but my time was running out as they locked me in that lift room and soon i fell through that rickety hole in the floor, spurred on by you. and you didn't care one bit no matter how loud i cried your name. i never told you a lot of things, the way i felt when i was lying next to you, so chaotic and thoughtful inside yet immensely empty. you made me feel alone and unimportant and i tried to tell you one of those nights in august. but you were so free and set in your ways that you didn't hear me..maybe you did and just chose to ignore it. i once said i loved that i could tell you anything. but in reality i never really told you all that much because your heart wouldn’t let me. i've turned pink with the afternoon. i am calm. i am whole only for a second. and for a moment all the seasons make sense. everybody’s leaves have to change colours right? right? i guess you're still not listening. and as chances drift away like leaves on a river so does my faith and the memory of when we first met. we laughed and smiled together yet were complete strangers, as we sat next to each other, slightly touching. two worlds that once collided.
