Midnight Magic
***Please take this piece of writing as it is. This was written, what feels like ages ago. I don't desire empathy or pity. All I desire is that people read this, and FEEL something. Please share my writing with people you know, who like to feel, and understand, and open up. That's what I want. Things happen, and we move on, but in the moment it just feels so good to FEEL. Doesn't it?***
Midnight magic, floating hearts, and sun kissed cheeks.
I never knew I was lonely, I only ever guessed. I had my suspicions back-in-the-day, but I figured that it was just a hoax. So many things remind me of him. The word hoax, my very own face, and the smiles of my nephews. In the middle of the night on a hotel room floor, I write of midnight magic. The stuff that nightmares are made of. A pulling cord in your chest, linked directly from your heart to your stomach. The cool air hitting you just so. Just because it's magic doesn't mean it's good. I feel the lonely creeping in, and I turn on the light and open the door, letting the darkness dissipate into the corners. I won't let it take me.
A floating heart isn't magic, it's reality. It is the moment you realize you don't know what you want anymore. When you come to the conclusion that you just don't care enough about the broken stuff to fix it. You just want it to die. My floating heart thrives in the midnight magic. It spins wildly in the dark breaking more and more, becoming less and less useful. I am tired of worrying about it. How is one supposed to car for something so reckless? Especially when the recklessness comes from such a beautiful past.
Now, sun kissed cheeks are glorious. They remind you of how you should feel. What life really feels like. Yet, on this night, on this dark and wildly lonely midnight of magic, night, those kisses seem stale. In comparison to the feeling of warmth right beside you or hope for the future, the sun could fall from the sky.
My biggest fear is being alone.
My greatest, grandest, most ferocious fear is loneliness. And despite my belief in God and a Savior, I have never had the courage to break that fear.
I don't want to hate him. I don't want to hate art, bathing suits, tv shows, my own face, or the smiles of my nephews. I want to love those things. But right now, those things remind me that I am alone. Selfish, I know. I've always been that way.
My tears are real, my heart is full of aching. It hasn't stopped and it doesn't show an end. I am so tired and so alone and I hate myself for it. Because the very last thing I want to hate, is you, because, well... I love you.
Midnight magic, floating hearts, and sun kissed cheeks.
I never knew I was lonely, I only ever guessed. I had my suspicions back-in-the-day, but I figured that it was just a hoax. So many things remind me of him. The word hoax, my very own face, and the smiles of my nephews. In the middle of the night on a hotel room floor, I write of midnight magic. The stuff that nightmares are made of. A pulling cord in your chest, linked directly from your heart to your stomach. The cool air hitting you just so. Just because it's magic doesn't mean it's good. I feel the lonely creeping in, and I turn on the light and open the door, letting the darkness dissipate into the corners. I won't let it take me.
A floating heart isn't magic, it's reality. It is the moment you realize you don't know what you want anymore. When you come to the conclusion that you just don't care enough about the broken stuff to fix it. You just want it to die. My floating heart thrives in the midnight magic. It spins wildly in the dark breaking more and more, becoming less and less useful. I am tired of worrying about it. How is one supposed to car for something so reckless? Especially when the recklessness comes from such a beautiful past.
Now, sun kissed cheeks are glorious. They remind you of how you should feel. What life really feels like. Yet, on this night, on this dark and wildly lonely midnight of magic, night, those kisses seem stale. In comparison to the feeling of warmth right beside you or hope for the future, the sun could fall from the sky.
My biggest fear is being alone.
My greatest, grandest, most ferocious fear is loneliness. And despite my belief in God and a Savior, I have never had the courage to break that fear.
I don't want to hate him. I don't want to hate art, bathing suits, tv shows, my own face, or the smiles of my nephews. I want to love those things. But right now, those things remind me that I am alone. Selfish, I know. I've always been that way.
My tears are real, my heart is full of aching. It hasn't stopped and it doesn't show an end. I am so tired and so alone and I hate myself for it. Because the very last thing I want to hate, is you, because, well... I love you.
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