Choking the bloom
The cruelty of killing love..
I still remember the night I slapped myself and whispered...
“Don’t do this again. You can’t fall for someone else. Remember your place.”
I held my aching heart and looked at this new person—someone who reminded me of every scar the other had left behind. The same longing to hold him; the infinite distance hidden within the few paces between us.
The next morning, I remember repeating:
“Have some control. It’s only been a year. You can’t risk being so easy.”
Eventually, it happened just like last time. I found myself in total devotion to the person in front of me—finding a home in someone who was a mere visitor in my life. And as always, I was ready to kill the feeling. If it grows unacknowledged, the cost is losing myself.
So I did — my old ritual. I killed the love early. But the cruelty of choking it would eventually lash back at me.
Last time, I killed it and knelt in all my vulnerability, hoping they saw the love I had in store and understood why I had to present it that way. I had no other way.
This time, I killed it too. This time its presence was noticed, and I hated that. It was acknowledged, but I feared the game I had orchestrated. Sure enough, the consequences presented themselves.
Last time, I had to lose myself to have him.
This time, I had to lose the game to find me.
What lies ahead is a game I know all too well. But this time... maybe I will let go of the reins.
For I am no longer—Liminal.
PS: If you are reading this, I trust you with my vulnerability. trust myself to be vulnerable.
~Bea
Head to the Citadel’s Repository, Starling. A forgotten tale awaits you, longing to be read.
~☀️~
<3