I wrote this for a writing prompt – “A girl love a guy and made a love potion for the guy. The guy fell in love with the girl but the girl lost interest in him. The guy is still heavily under the love potion. Write from the guy’s perspective about how he moves on still being in love with her.”
It’s already done but it will never be inside my heart and mind. It is not fair because everything seemed perfect. For us and for others but sometimes things don’t work the way we want to. We were too much in to each other, that the hole we fell down together is too deep to get out from. Maybe not for her but for me, yes. I want this pain to end. It hurts too much because how can I forget that her face when she laughs and her cute way of getting annoyed. How can I forget a face that I can explain each of her emotions so descriptive in my head? You would say ask you my friends for help. I did and my friends tried to help but they are now strangers too.
Our existence was like water and I tried to catch it with my bare hands. Only to stare at the water dripping through the gaps of my own fingers. Who’s fault was it that water had drip? Maybe it is none of our faults but a fault in the matching of the universe – a fault in our stars. The problem is, the universe rarely makes mistakes. Why did this have to be one of them? I can tell you this though, every single moment I held that water, seemed infinite.
Thus, I stare at you every single day only to walk away with fear… and sadness? that I might love and that you will not. By moving on, will I be blowing off the flame of hope by my own breath? Or will I be blowing off a flame that could have destroyed what it already was? For better or worse that flame will always leave a mark on each other. Some may call it love and others may call it scars.
I doubt if I will ever be worthy enough to be chosen by someone but if you ever think I’m worthy enough to be chosen by you. You need to know that I didn’t choose this path. This path chose me. I have held more guns and swords than flowers and birds and if these scars frighten you, you might as well be better off with a soul without thorns and draws no blood.