frames

a heart once broken finds it all too easy to forget that it has since been put back together.
i’d rather know the agony, it insists. i’d rather wallow in the pain of love lost, past and future.

when i was six, i woke up from a nap in my parents’ bed and squinted at the setting sun that peeked from behind the curtains. the sprawling leaves, brown and green, shone bright against the cream canvas. groggy, i rubbed the remnants of sleep away from my eyes and looked for my mother’s warmth. the room was empty, of course, but i didn’t expect the void to extend to the rest of the house. my chest tightened and my eyes blurred with tears summoned by panic. i did find my dad in the end (or maybe it was the other way around?), though his body was too big and too cold for what i needed. he gave my longing no relief save for an explanation: your mother left.


i need to think of love with loss in sight. blame evolution for valuing painful memories more than happy ones, or perhaps blame all the bon iver i’ve been listening to lately, but my morbid preoccupations extend to the way i treat the people most dear to me.

it is easier for me to cherish someone once i am familiar with all the ways they could leave me. will Death snatch them away from me in a nasty traffic collision, or will i feel their wrinkly hands in mine as they exhale for the last time? or perhaps when i least expect it they’ll leave me for someone who excites them in ways i never could? most likely though, i would recite lines until my heart knows them as gospel and you’ll taste my bitter words before i exit, stage left. you should listen to yourself come up with excuses. pay no mind; they’re all different names for the same thing.

i can’t beat it. as much as i love you and want to give you the TLC you deserve, i still see you as the empty space you’d leave when if the day adieu replaces au revoir arrives. i won’t stop trying to fight against my instincts though. i will strive to see you as you are, and believe me when i say that my hope will live long after your flesh retires.

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