Falling

The day I met you for the very first time, I looked upon your face, and saw not a person - but a universe of all that is fascinating and shiny and beautiful, a wide expanse of perfection, where flaws are not expected or even acknowledged. I saw beautiful words and syllables, so exquisite, how could one not weave them into stories and poems? So many endless permutations & combinations, of so many different stories, and many amazing adventures, each one of which you are the hero of. 

So I wrote. I wrote about you. And while I weaved your stories together and put them on paper with ink & a bit of me - I fell. I fell for you.

~

No one ever told me I was falling not in love, but falling in disappointment. That somewhere at the back of my mind, I always knew you would leave. Just did not know when, at what point in time, I'd have to sit up and acknowledge flaws. 

Now, there is a wreckage between my ribs, left there by you. A wound, that throbs dully, that I carry around everywhere I go, with every single step I take. An ache that stops pounding on the door of my existence, only once the pills I weigh every night without fail in my fragile palms, kick in. And for the first few seconds after I open my eyes every morning, somewhere between a deep, dreamless sleep & being wide awake, in those moments of hazy disorientation.

Falling was a stupid idea. Why did it seem so brilliant at the time?

Annie. 

P.S.: I have no idea why this post happened. Sometimes, I literally just phase out. 

--------------------------------------------------------------

Now Playing: Stairway To Heaven | Led Zeppelin