#untitles

Alec Prado // Sonreyes Poetry

Miquel Renom Sabadell, (cap a 1870 – 1950)

It ended with one of those conversations. The ones where you tell them how a bunch of their little things have added up and the sum is that you no longer want to be with them. They don’t believe you, so you say far more hurtful things. But their resolve is almost admirable ?, yet another facet of their person you will miss. It hurts but you push on. They deny every statement you come up with and you’re grasping now. “I think I might be gay” gets laughed at, which, that’s a little insulting. You have one card left, but you really don’t want to play it. It won’t be true. It could never be true (’but you’re only thirteen!’ you tell yourself as you promised you would whenever you even thought about them, exclamation point included.)

“I don’t love you”. It shocks them, that was the intention but what you see in their face is also realisation, and no, no, NO. You do love them, please don’t believe me. You didn't believe a quarter of the stuff that just came out of my mouth when half of it was actually true. I was annoyed by the way you squeezed the toothpaste in the middle. I would have liked it if my soul mate detested dogs as much as I. But it was also nice to have a protector against those fiendish canines, and those little quirks are all part of why I loved you. Are, present tense. Please don’t leave me. But you keep your face stoic, you won’t cry, you never do. They look at you and you feel your heart break in perfect reflection of theirs. You see the tears form and you yearn to wipe them away. To take back everything, to do anything just to make them not sad once more.

“I never loved you either.” And they turn and go.

You didn't understand how they could take you at your word when you blatantly lied, but your whole world shatters with those five words.