Vintage Baseball

Your shirt smells of you and I now. Your musky scent intertwined with my floral-vanilla shades.
I still haven't washed it, even though I probably should. I miss you and I'm never letting you, or this shirt go.
You know all the drama hurts. I don't see how you couldn't, I've spelt it out to you a million and one times. It hurts that you don't care. It hurts so much.
But this is always and forever.
You frustrate me.
I love you.

End

I don't belong anywhere anymore.
And that feels sad.
No one really needs or cares for me.
I know I do. But none of them do.
So that's sad.
So hand me that knife, and let me cut my heart into equal pieces. One for each of you. You can keep my heart, keep feeding of the love. I don't need it anymore.

Hot Chocolate

I glanced at my watch once again. It had been exactly twenty three minutes since his plane had landed. Fuck customs. Like, seriously. Fuck 'em.
'Chill. It can take upto an hour or sometimes more. You know that.'
' I know. I know. '
Impatience gnawed at me like a rabid dog.
He was finally here. I would finally see him, touch him... Run my fingers through his hair, feel his skin on mine... Make him laugh and smile with him- in real life!
The butterflies in my stomach, the very ones who'd been residing there since he'd announced his arrival details were going epileptic on me. I was a bundle of nerves along with being extremely excited.
And then finally, after gazing into the crowd for almost an hour I spotted him.
He walked with an easy, but determined gait, head swivelling in every which way trying to locate the welcoming party. I motioned for Sundas to raise the banner while I walked towards him as if in a dream.
My smile felt as if it would split my face into half, and the butterflies were probably going into cardiac arrest, but all I could see was him.
His eyes finally locking in on me, his expression changing from calm determination to wonder and happiness.
We met each other half way and somehow were holding hands.
' Hi. ' he said, and I blushed furiously, the smile, now grin, refusing to leave.
' Hi. ' I managed, still grinning, and still blushing like a complete idiot, and then-
he pulled me to him and we shared a hug.
That hug.
The hug.
The one long overdue.
The long awaited hug that we'd yearned for since the day we'd realized we were meant to be. The one I craved every night, the one he needed after every victory, after every loss.
This was the hug which had taken on many forms in the past ten months, the hug which had been given and received in a thousand virtual ways.
And today, in that moment I was finally feeling it for the very first time.
He was incredibly warm and solid, his arms around me made me feel a hundred different things.
Safe. I felt safe.
And Loved. And Wanted.
He smelt clean,smelt familiar. Of laundry detergent and soap. There was a hint of cologne too, but only a hint.
His was my favourite scent.
His was my favourite hug.
He was my favourite.
' I missed you. ' I whispered.
' I missed you too. '

You.

He has bushy eyebrows above small eyes, with an asian lilt. A crooked smile, below a straight nose with slightly flared nostrils.
And yet, the imperfections gather to create something completely perfect.
When he smiles, really smiles with no inhibitions- the kind of smile that makes his eyes crinkle up and that dimple appear - I automatically feel my cheeks lifting.
When those eyes fill up, all I want to do is to pull him into my arms and kiss the sorrow away.
He's noble and chivalrous. Stubborn and flawed.
I love him for all that he is and all that he isn't.
For his passion and for his determination. For all that completes him, the light and the dark.
I love him and he's finally mine.
-With a bit of faith, trust and some pixie dust.

Chill the fuck out girl.

The biggest fight I fight is with myself.
What is important to me? What are my priorities? How am I going to make it if I don't even know myself?
I'm so confused and so messed up and everything is still so hard. Nothing is ever easy. Theres just an illusion of easy.

Im getting way too over.
I need to calm the fuck down.
I need to give it time.
I need to chill the fuck out.
Everything I'm thinking is bullshit.
I should do only what I want to, or I will be unhappy.
I should not be afraid of conflict.

The path I choose.

I stared at the reflection in the mirror.
A round face glared back at me, adorned with a prominent chin, tear stained cheeks, large, sunken in eyes and pale skin.
The nose was slightly larger than average, and the eyebrows were arched and unmade.
This was my face. I was looking at myself. My pathetic, sad, sad self.
I glanced at my hands and noticed the chipped off nail polish topping my slim fingers with a slight inner nod. Completely fitting that the polish should be chipped.
My decisions, and non existent options stretched out in front of me, like a dusty old crinkled map.
So many tiny lines going off in so many different directions. Overlapping and crossing and getting jumbled and tangled into one another.
Tracing them, trying to see where it all led to did me no good. I had to pick one, but the most attractive was ironically the most messy. Choosing it would mean uncertainty beyond my wildest imaginations.
I could be on the stairway to heaven, or walking down the highway to hell, I wouldn't know until I was close to the destination.
But boy was it tempting. The roses alongside it grew lush and red, with seemingly no thorns and a heavy overwhelming scent.
Only when you plucked one did it prick your finger, and then the bleeding would start.
And you would find out that the graze was actually a cut.
It was, however, all in your mind.
You could easily ignore the pricked finger, and the tiny scratch would dissappear into nothing, but that would also be the most difficult thing you would do.
You had to choose your own happiness on this path, and make hell your heaven.
But that was the easiest and most difficult thing to do.
And I was not sure I could do it.

On being a creeper, on being in love.

Right now, I can hear you breathing.
Its intense and its soothing. Its intimate and it's slightly creepy- on my part, that is.
The need to make you feel better is overwhelming at times. Hearing you flail and call out my name? Almost heartbreaking.

Your breaths are like my very own private brand of music. They have their own rythm, their own tune.
Faster, and faster, laborious, intense, rising up to a crescendo- a break- and after that, peace.
It's a constant loop, with a few grunts and mumbled whispers occasionally mixed in. Trying to make out the whispers is impossible so far. They're mostly incoherent but then- I hear my name and freeze.
I'm confused. Did you mean to say it? Are you dreaming? Are you half awake?
And there it is again.
I close my eyes.
I wish I was there with you right now. I wish I could stroke your hair, kiss your lips, trace the shapes of your eyes and nose and cheeks and I wish and I wish and I wish. I wish we were together.

I don't know if what I'm feeling is actual love. The kind of fairytales and happy endings. It feels like it. It really does.
But this world is so very jaded. And I'm unsure. Will I always feel this way?
I hope so. What if it gets tainted by the world? The world has that kind of fucked up power. I don't want to be questioned. I just want to believe.
And right now, i don't want to stop believing.
It's a scary thought.
I don't want to  build my castle just yet, but the clouds look heavenly this time of the day.

Right now is the part where you're at peace. Or your breaths are, at least.
It's soothing to be doing things around the house, yet hearing you breathe as if you're right beside me.
It makes me feel like I'm not alone.
And I love the fact that I can help you sleep. That I can help you with things that you need, and that it's only me, who can help you with them. It's me that you've choosen to help you.

You told me that you love me the most. That I'm the most important person in your life.
Do you have any idea of how heavy those words are? Or of how light they make me feel?
An invisible weight lifted off my shoulders... A weight I didn't know much about until it wasn't there anymore.
This proves me right you know.
I predicted this in the beginning... but time made me unsure. Your pain seemed to have no end- and it made me doubt so many things.
But I'm thankful that I know you enough to know who you really are.
And I'm thankful that you choose me.

Miss you.