Van De Aarde

Falling slow into the depths of my sheets with only thoughts of her to catch me, I begin to dream my arms gently wrapping her tempting waist. Reality wakes my eyes and ushers me from delirium. The words are imprinted on the back of my throat, but will never be uttered from these longing lips. Restless and underwhelmed, I replace the darkness of my dreams with that of the city’s. Walking through the humid late night air of an empty street, with only the glow of towering lights to guide the way. Sweat fights to bead on my brow after every wipe of my hand. If this air was thicker, I’d drown. "How have i reached regret so early in life?" I ask. More questions than answers begin to fill my mind, as I continue around the corner at the end of the street. Is it cowardice that frustrates me? I’m not usually abiding such a fear filled agenda. Misguided love can be a funny friend when you’re feeling lonely. The phone in my pocket reminds me of the priorities I’ve forgotten. Trying to pull me into some late night scheming. It’s just one of those nights. A sentence I’ve used many times to comfort the introvert inside. A sentence meaning nothing to many and everything to me. After reflecting on the love of my parents, I fear the inevitable vulnerability of my heart. And the pain that will surely follow. But I must risk this to feel as they do. I wonder if the love of friends surrounding me is just a guise they’ve just created in order to avoid the pain they know it would take to find the one they’re meant to be with. My generation is one filled of few real risk takers. You may disagree thinking of the barely 20, millionaires and billionaires. But if they would have failed they wouldn’t have really felt the pain that heartbreak brings. When’s the last time a friend of yours has really taken a risk like that. One that is detrimental to their way of life and love? I want to stop hiding behind my safe guise of happiness and put my heart on the chopping block. I want to FEEL. And I don’t want to leave any part of my heart unturned. I want it to breathe. I want it to feel the radiating sun’s warmth . And I want it to feel pain. Because without real pain, you cannot understand or appreciate the greatness of real love. Real love. What does that even really entail. I thought I’ve seen it in eyes staring back at me. But so far I’ve never truly felt it. I’ve never had a broken hart. I always acted like it, but I don’t think I’ve ever really experienced it. Maybe part of me just hoped it was real love. That way I could justify the time wasted. Was a really all a waste. Maybe it was a necessary stop on my road to love. Maybe I wouldn’t meet the one unless I’ve had a few wrong ones. I feel like so many of my friends just get sucked into fear filled quick sand, where they feel safe with wrong ones. They are too afraid to hurt, so they just avoid being alone. If I ever fall into this pit, I hope a friend would pull me out. That’s a true friend. I remember my promise to meet a friend at the corner brewery. What’s the point. We’ll have the same old conversations about our new lives and how new we are and different than before. Pretty much avoiding the fact that we’ve changed about as much as the weather changes in LA. We’re the same people and that’s why we’re still friends. If we changed as much as we pretended, we realistically wouldn’t be friends anymore. Are we even still friends? Fuck it.