#userzozo

we kissed when rome was burning down and when atlantis sank back into the ocean. we kissed when the stars were all out in the summer sky and my hands were seeking warmth on winter mornings. we have kissed on countless occasions, in countless situations, and yet, i haven’t kissed you.

does it, you ask.

the sky is dyed a soft pink behind us. softer than your lips, and i can feel them ghosting over the shell of my ear. it’s evening, and it reminds me of those watercolor paintings you would do for school. it’s pink and the orange that you loved about the evenings isn’t there now.

soft, soft pink.

like the roses you always get for your mother’s grave. like the lipstick stains i leave on the mirror that you wipe off all the time. like that painting you did for class when they wanted you to draw love and the first thing that came to your mind was me and soft lace.

i’m sorry, i tell you.

you don’t reply, but your body speaks for you.

you are trembling. fists clenched and eyes red. your lips are quivering. you hate that word. every time i used it in writing, you’d scowl. tell me it’s cliche. tell me that it’s boring. and right now, i’m doing the things that you hate so you’ll hate me in turn.

the pink sky. quivering lips.

we can still be friends, i tell you.

i don’t want that, you try to say.

you want me. you want me to tell you we’re fine. but it isn’t easy. it never is with you. with you, i could climb the tallest of mountains and paint dragons and see the future. you hate greetings cause they’re formal. you say that they take away the love. with you, good mornings meant you’re my world. goodbyes meant i love you. good nights meant dream of me tonight. you don’t want half-hearted good mornings and finite goodbyes. you don’t want a fraction, you tell me. you want the whole. the imperfections, the flaws, the fears, the anger, the hate, the passion. you don’t want twenty percent. it’s all or nothing with you.

the sky is still the same shade of pink. it’s my lips that are quivering now. you had the whole, but now you don’t.

goodbye, i tell you.

when you told me the news, i remember my heart aching. it wept. i had seen separation in movies, read about it in books, but in reality, it was an unfamiliar pain that a thirteen year old had to be subjected to.

when you saw me crying, you promised that distance wouldn’t matter. that you might be a day away, but the train to your city ran almost everyday and there was always hope. you told me that you’d write to me everyday and that we could visit each other when the time was right. i nodded along.

when you are thirteen, promises seem eternal.

( but so does heart break.)

- this is a work heavily inspired by makoto shinkai’s  5 centimeters per second. idk why i wrote it out, or title it “rabbits die of loneliness”. (spoiler alert: no one dies. i like my gays well and alive and in love) i guess i’m trying to explore the realm of heartbreak that stems from separation and distance. hopefully i can do the theme & the movie justice.