I do crave a kiss. For a forehead kiss. For a forehead man’s kiss. And I know loving you was a bliss, because I don’t feel as happy and as good as when you were by my side. I crave for someone who wishes me a good night before sleeping and someone who holds me when I am in fright.
I always crave to yearn for someone. My life spins around yearning, and I can’t help it. Every single moment of my life, I’ve been yearning for someone. And I crave to learn how to live without yearning. I crave someone wise who can tell me how I should live and how I should love, without destroying myself every time I do it.
I feel like no one ever loved me the way I would have liked, but neither did I. I always ask people to love me, but I don’t know how to love.
And I ask myself: who am I without my help cries? Who am I without my thoughts about you, and who am I without staying awake the whole night thinking what we could have been? And I imagine you in every place you have ever been, and suddenly I feel empty again.
And you know, every time I think about you, I really wish I could reset my mind and forget you. I wish I could go back to the time when I was yearning for some other dumb thing. But a little light inside me tells me that when I look to the sky for hope, you’re looking too.
And I sometimes I wish with all my body and soul that you see each tear and sob I’ve ever dropped and done. And that in a rain form reaches you, and it makes you wet. And you run and run, but when you go home, you start feeling bad, and you catch a cold.
I want my tears, the rain, to burn your skin, to show how cold they are. I want to cry on your shoulder and make you realize that you hurt me. I want to put those tears in a jar and send them to you, so you see how much you meant to me and how little I meant to you.
I want to somehow break your heart and make you fall apart as I did. I want you to feel empty and messy. I want you to hear my sobs, to make you hear my sobs for hours, so maybe you empathize. I want to love someone new before you come to my mind again. I want you to leave me alone, to stop appearing everywhere.
Because you don’t even talk to me in real life, but in my mind, you are appearing all the time, and maybe I will be tired of you there. But if you give me another chance, I will never get tired of you, of the real you.
And we all know here that I didn’t mean that. If that was actually happening to you, I would offer to take all that suffering for you, so you could pay no attention to me again.
This was written by our contributing writer, Haizea Valenti.
The image used in this personal essay was provided by Haizea Valenti.
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