I tell the world I am content and fine with the way things are. But if you were to ask me, and I answer honestly, I’ll tell you I am stuck between two tides.
On one side, it’s warm and promising. Opposite, cold. Yet, I find myself enamored by the latter. Those tides have long passed and yet I cling onto it with every wake.
Ignoring the blessings in front of me to instead chase a familiar feeling. I extend my reach into a fruitless void, waiting for a reciprocal noise and some acknowledgment of my longing.
Deep down, I know it’s all for naught and I should know better.
But it’s a curse. One that belongs to me and it’s so deeply woven into the fabric of my identity. Sowed by the threads of my past and entangled with the present. A constant, incommunicable experience that plagues me with guilt.
And while I am not certain how long it will remain, it’s a painful reminder of what was — a wretched love that digs into the depth of my soul.
