Only if the little tethers in our minds didn’t hold us back…
A piece by Blue
“Why are you so afraid to love?”, she asks, innocence in her eyes, a small curve on her lips, with moths roaming around her sweet scented hair. They distracted him like noise does to sleep, soil does to rivers, and silence of minds does to poets.
He continued looking to those moths and thinking of their short lifespans and thinking about how fast they would have had to love and how fast, to die. It wasn’t until her hot coffee cup caressed a bit too sharply on his hand that he came back to reality. Harsh horrors surround him at the name of love and only he is to blame for it. He says sorry to people that they had the unfortunate encounter with fate that they loved him. He says sorry so much that he counts his age in apologies now. A thousand apologies old, he introduces himself. He apologized to each and every one of them, for letting them love him and not love them back.
“It’s not love I am ever afraid of. It is the feeling of sinking each time you drown, although adrenalizing in fighting to the surface, but it is the kind of fight that drains you like all the blood has been sucked right out of your body. Like all the air has been snatched away from your lungs. It is the feeling of shining light on your inner darkness that absorbs it and reflects nothing back. An infinite abyss of nothingness to fill the void each time you breathe. I’m not afraid of love. I’m afraid of not loving enough.”