freewrite

I see you in exactly 179 minutes. If you are on time, which you are, all the time. You hated tardiness. I was always tardy. Always late. Always scared. Scared to move, unsure of what my heart is beating. I imagine awkwardness morphing into friendship banter transforming into relationship clairvoyance. Or maybe we will just sit there. Looking at each other for answers we already know, confirming our existences were not meant to be aligned.

I still miss you. That is why nervousness is running up and down my veins. I have become stronger in my will but I am still prone to missteps in my heart.

It was a fantasy. The life we were living. The hopes, the dreams, the projections, expectations, the miles between us. All of it shaped us into a hurricane that whipped our love out of us into this amorphous entity in which we have been trying to steal back from.

You threw 500 mph love shots and my plastic nets melted to catch them. I can’t love like a roar, my love’s existence flows like a river and sounds like freedom. There is no more heart when you finished carving my chest. It has internally combusted and mixed with my liver to filter out the toxic between us and reformed to something you can’t hold anymore.

I still love you but I refuse to suffer any more storms. I refuse to sit in the center and watch everything around me spin and tumble out. We have taught, learned, and loved each other and there are no more lessons to learn. School has let out due to hurricane warnings. Time to go home.