“The last time anyone made me feel this way, I ended up in ashes.”

This thing is familiar. I know it all too well. First it feels necessary, essential, like a cup of tea after a heavy downpour. A tiny antidote for a thick poison. That’s how it feels; like an antidote. An antidote to my loneliness. And I know my loneliness – my loneliness is the quiet kid in class, the one who doesn’t act up for attention. The one who doesn’t speak unless spoken to. And if she’s not spoken to, she forgets how to speak. My loneliness is like that, if I ignore her long enough, she pretends to disappear.

But no matter how hard I try to ignore this thing, it doesn’t fade. It’s mightier than my loneliness. It feels useful. It feels like the sun’s rays at 8:30 in the morning; nicely warm on the skin. It smells like the soil after a drizzle – something indescribable. It swears it’s a friend so I invite it in. It comes bearing presents – cuddles, compliments and candy. Things foreign to me, things my loneliness could never afford.

In the end, it all vanishes. I always wake up to find this thing gone. It doesn’t even let me plead with it to stay. It’s probably scared I’ll be too convincing. It probably knows how much I need it.

See;

Love has always been a bad guest in my house. It passes by unannounced and leaves whenever it feels like it. Its mannerisms have taught me to ignore the door when it knocks these days. I always just turn up the volume of my radio.

But my cells are used up. I can hear love call my name. What do I do now?