I don’t love you like I did last winter.
Last winter, we were like strangers who shared a candy floss because there was only one left. Back then we watched the fireworks believing that both of us were perfect for each other. I thought you were the only boy who could understand what my eyes said when I’d look at you. You felt like an art gallery that I’d never come across and I was so elated that I had. Last Christmas, it snowed but my heart was warm because I knew you adored me and it felt so right. My bones believed that you were the only strength I need to stand upright. So when I missed you, it felt like missing a limb. Like I can’t walk in a human manner without you. It felt like you were the Earth to me. Guessed well, I was the moon. So I wrote poems about you. About your beauty and your existence. I wrote of how much we loved and how much it pained to not be beside you. Of how much it hurt when you wouldn’t say what was on your mind or of how much you loved the other girl. She was beautiful, intelligent, independent, affectionate, and obviously miraculous. To keep my heart in the light, I lit a matchstick and I asked myself to get my shit together and sat on the porch and buried my face In the pillow I carried along so that I could write of your love all over again.
But the winter is here again. I’m sorry if this sounds harsh. I’m sorry if you have to read this. But I do not apologise for the human I have made out of me. I will eat candy floss and fiercely remember how we ate ours together, maybe I’d even wish you were here, although, it’s completely alright if you can’t. We’ve been together for long and you need your space as well.
I was gullible and you were all of my space. I’m happy that you are at ease with your life. I’m making peace with myself too. Last week, I watched fireworks thinking that it was a great time to be alive and I’m grateful that I appreciate little things. Of course, I thought of us watching the fireworks together, it was lovely and I do not regret a single moment of it. I think I’m perfect for me. Thanks for being by my side that day. When I look at my reflections, in car windows, in glass walled shops, in my shadows, in lakes, mugs filled with tea, and even when I painfully look into the mirror, I think I’ve started to nurture the little voice in my head. It has a timid heart but a ferocious voice and I’ve started to understand why it says what it does. I listen to it, subconsciously, it fills my gut and I think it’s true to me. I believe I’m art. You’ve told me I’m not like the other girls. I giggled back then thinking it was a great thing to say. Along the way, I’ve realised that I do not want to be complimented by insulting other women. It feels like a competition that none of us signed up for. Every woman, every man, every gender in existence is art and I cannot deny about the great beauty you possess either. I’ve started knitting sweaters and insinuating fires to keep myself warm. Rubbing my palms helps too. My heart feels warm with or without you. It’s no surprise. My mother called me today morning. She said my voice sounded fragile, that I should drink more milk, it helps the bones from wearing away. You’ve been gone too long, and I miss you, but it doesn’t seem like drought without you and I can walk alright. I’ve started writing again, but it won’t be about you anymore. NASA says that the moon moves a centimetre farther away from Earth each year. So tonight, there’s going to be another poem about the moon and maybe an overjoyed expression my face before I fall asleep. I’ll write about how I feel about myself and of the beauty of plainly breathing. It doesn’t hurt as much when you fail to tell me what you’re thinking. It intrigues me, but I’ve learnt that I can’t force it out of your lips. First love never fades. And it’s okay, because you’ll always have a place for her in your heart and I can respect that. To keep my heart in the light, I’ve put up great lights in the yard. So I got my shit together and here I am.
I am not saying that I love you any less than I did last winter.
All I’m saying that I love myself more.