Nocturnal Sounds

one ran away and one let go but i held onto them both and you're the only one who can ever know. (postscript) @c-orpsecard

[n-0cturn]

11:19pm - One Month Later

Life since you has been... Normal. In a way that can only be described as perfectly integrated. You are in between the thoughts where there used to be silence. You conjure a smile on my face where before there was nothing. You do not simply make moments and memories, you recreate the pieces I already put together and somehow make them... Better.

Silence is still confort.

Solitude is still home.

And now, with you, I can enjoy silence by your side. I can have my solitude because you know it is where I feel the most at peace. You recognize my needs, and that is foreign to me. I don't know what you see. I don't know what I've told you.

But you see me.

[n-0cturn]

I was not expecting you.

And I think that made it all the more hard to believe that you're... you.

What I did expect was to dismiss you. I expected another face to forget. Another story to tell. I expected you to be perfectly average and nothing at all remarkable.

And it wasn't until you walked away and I was alone in my apartment that I realized I liked you. You were funny. You'd lived. You'd experienced, and you tried. You made it out alive in a world that always seemed to turn your thoughts cloudy. But mostly, you were real. You were human. And flawed. And imperfect in so many ways. You were imperfect in the way that made you perfect for me.

I still don't believe you're real sometimes. I still find it so implausible that someone like you somehow found me in a sea of people who are mere passing thoughts. I still walk away feeling more than I ever have with anyone. And what I feel is this low burning heat that won't easily extinguish.

I thought love was explosive. Turbulent. I thought love was a roaring fire because I'd spent so long in the company of people who felt little compared to all I do. Back then, it only felt amazing because I held onto it so dearly, and I carried it alone. I'd loved. Improperly. I misread the signs. I misread myself. I thought the buzzing in my chest meant I had to be in love, but in reality, it was my body holding in the three words I should have never wasted on people who I thought understood me.

But here you are.

You saw me.

And I truly don't understand how. I'm not easy to see. I'm not easy to hold because I locked everything away, and I forgot who I was. But then I cried in front of you, and when I tried to turn away like I always do, you just pulled me closer.

You apologized. And I felt bad you apologized. So you apologized again. And it wasn't empty. It was sincere. And I believed you.

You told me you loved me.

And I believed you.

You said you imagined every step of your life with me.

And I... somehow believed you.

You've said every wonderful thing I thought only writers could imagine. And maybe it's because I'm a writer that I didn't understand why I believed you. You couldn't be real. You couldn't be this funny. You couldn't be this sweet and sincere. You couldn't be real. Because I didn't think it was possible for someone to be so wonderful.

[n-0cturn]

Dear you,

If you're out there. If you're... Waiting, like me. I wonder if you're worth it--the waiting. The time. The... Anticipation of someone so wonderful and perfectly flawed.

I wonder what you look like in the morning. Are your sleepy eyes blue or brown? Are your lashes dark or bright? When you fall asleep, do you hum to yourself until your eyes grow heavy?

What do you do when it's late and you have nothing to do but sleep? Do you lay in bed and stare at the ceiling? Do you... Read a book? Fiction? Fantasy? Do you draw or write or pick up a guitar?

Is your flat filled with books and photos? Do you keep fresh flowers on the table?

Do you wonder what I'm doing? Do you ask the silence what I look like? Do you ever imagine me?

[n-0cturn]

Remember, life is a beautiful, monstrous thing. So are you. Feed on life's pleasure at the expense of losing time.

[n-0cturn]

I never imagined I'd ever write here to a friend, so here, it goes.

We had fun times and beautiful memories. Getting caught in a thunderstorm in the middle of Paris. Walking through the state fair. Hours upon hours on the phone just talking about... life. Voice messages about people who annoyed us. Rampant conversations about our fears, our dreams, what life could be and would be.

We got drunk at a bar in Paris and planned your perfect engagement. I said I'd buy that pair of Saint Laurent heels and suffer in them for the night just for you. That one drunken night in a bathroom at a concert when I said I wanted you to be my maid of honor when I got married.

You know me.

You knew me.

You knew what it meant to me - to call you my best friend proudly and without regret. You knew the nights I spent heartbroken and tired. You knew everything.

I know you.

I knew you.

I remember the day you called me because it felt like the world was ending. I was exhausted and on the verge of tears, but you needed me. It wasn't the time for me to complain about a new job and no sleep. No. You needed me. I stayed awake for you. I made the phone calls. I took the difficult decisions from your shoulders and made them my own.

All because you were my best friend, and that's just what best friends do.

I talked you through it when your dad was in the hospital. When you froze in fear at the suddenness of it all. And you told me how thankful you were that I was just present. How my family kept your dad in their thoughts even from cities away.

I opened my home to you when you couldn't take it anymore.

I listened when you were about to fall in love.

I cheered you on when you finally did.

I kept our picture in my wallet because... you were my person.

And so, with the silence, I take it as your departure from this little world of ours. The life we lived so chaotically only with each other. The dreams, the memories, the what ifs, and whys. The anger at others for treating us so poorly. The nights spent dying of laughter at nonsensical things.

Will I miss you? Sure.

But I think I finally realized that most of our friendship was spent missing you.

With the sweets came the spoils.

The missed phone calls.

The unanswered texts.

The nights spent crying, wondering where you were because... I answered your call. Why didn't you answer mine?

How long had it been - how long had I accepted being the one who answered but was never answered? Did I allow myself to shrink for you? To accept that not everyone can give their time the way I do so easily?

When did it start to feel so normal to fit myself into what you needed and neglect what I needed? Because sometimes, I do. Not all the time. But on those nights when I cry and I beg and the hole in my chest grows just that much more, I do need someone. I need someone who answers.

I can't remember the last time you answered me.

[n-0cturn]

"How many times has someone told you you're beautiful? I'm sure it's often."

He looked at me with a stillness that only said I don't have an answer. Especially not the right answer. His eyes wouldn't turn from mine. I was so sure he had something to say. He knew how to answer me, whether it was with his fingers or a single number. He just didn't want to say it.

I continued, "How many times have you felt it?"

His eyes widened. Just a little. Then he relaxed again. A shallow sigh of relief. And then it was confusion.

"Do you ever believe them? Believe they mean it? Believe it's true? I know the person who said it believed it. But did you?"

I rendered him speechless with a question. An honest one.

"I never really believe it." I shook my head softly, but my vision trailed off somewhere beyond him. Beyond the conversation. It didn't really feel like I was talking to him anymore. Maybe I was just talking to myself. "But I don't hear it often."

He was taken aback. His eyes narrowed. Head tilted. He didn't believe me.

"But I like it that way," I said, just slowly enough it couldn't have been a lie. "I like that hearing it is a rarity. Because that means when I do hear it... I feel it. I feel it in my bones. My soul. I feel it course through my veins. Just for a second. And that second alone is just enough so that I don't care if I never hear it again."

As he listened, I felt a warmth by my thigh. His fingers twitched toward my skin, just barely grazing the scar above my knee.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" he said, a little more aggressive than he probably intended.

"How many times has someone told you you're beautiful?"

Silence. A heavy second. And then he said, "I don't believe you."

"What's not to believe?" I smiled. He wasn't expecting that.

"I don't believe... that you don't hear it often."

"You don't have to believe it," I said quietly. "I know it."

He looked calmer. His breathing slowed, but the crease in his brow left muted mark.

I reached. My fingers grazed his temple. He froze under my touch, the fever spiking like a shock to his system - contagious, fast-spreading, and impossible to ignore.

"Got you," I whispered. "How are you feeling?"

He blinked. "I'm... What did you do?"

"Pulled you out of your little episode with a question you couldn't answer. Didn't know if it'd work. Either you get pissed off or... something else in your head takes over. Just not the anxious part."

[n-0cturn]

Maybe you should ask yourself why this happened and give me facts instead of three-word, easily digestible derogatory statements.

[n-0cturn]

I've learned to confide in voices, ones that speak but cannot listen.

[n-0cturn]

"What is it... about the dark. You like the dark, you like those who hold darkness close, what is it? You crave it?"

"I find it to be more real than happiness. A happy soul is one bound to be broken. I'd rather found one broken, so that we can rebuild together with the pieces."

[n-0cturn]

"I like sad love."

"That's a bit odd."

"It is. And I think that's why I feel a little disconnected from others. Love is supposed to be happy, I know it is. But when I'm alone, all I think about is sad love. Sadness is at the core of love because it's that sadness that helps love to grow."

"I can't imagine you find very many people who feel the same way."

"Even if I did, I don't think very many people say it out loud. I think that's why I haven't met the right one yet. They probably couldn't understand why I love that feeling of sadness."

"Is that what you feel now? Sad love?"

"Yes. I'm alone. I've done all the things I had to do. I've surrounded myself with object that matter and made my parents proud. And even then, I find myself sitting alone at the computer, feeling no content-ness. Just sad love and empty memories. Daydreams of conversations that never happened with people I'll never meet."

"It sounds lonely."

"Maybe it is."

"How long can you stand to be this way before you try to embrace happy love?"

"Happy love comes naturally. It's only when I find someone who feels the same sad love I do that I think I'll know what love is. Until now, I was just fooling myself. It was mere possessiveness and deep care. Not love. Not once. It hurts to say something like that because I know at the time, I did love them all. Perhaps they loved me, too. Now, I don't even know. If, in the future, they ever asked me, I might dare to say that it was all a dream. It was all in my head. It was never love."

"Finding someone who relishes in sad love sounds like something you'd find at a bar."

"I thought I'd find it in a writer. Then maybe a reader. Neither of them had the sad love I craved. What's in between a writer and a reader?"

"A philosopher."

"Sounds boring."

"Introspective and fascinated. You know a philosopher, one who's emotionally intelligent, would be able to sit with you on this couch and ask you all the right questions to know what it is about sad love that appeals to you so much. Maybe it's the doubt - you doubting yourself. Maybe it's the way you can't help but feel the way you do when they turn around and close the door. Maybe it's that feeling of loneliness that you ultimately love so much because when someone is around that loneliness just gets locked away temporarily. You know it's still there crawling under your skin, but the people around you don't notice. Maybe they don't know what to look for. Or maybe you've been hiding it for so long that you don't know how to show it to anyone."

"What's the good in showing it? Pity? Sympathy? There's no remedy to be given when someone feels lonely and has gotten used to the feeling."

"Do you want pity or sympathy?"

"It's insulting."

"Then you want to be alone. I think the reason why you love sad love so much is simply because you're used to it. It's what you've felt your entire life, and you just learned how to swallow it down whenever someone is near. It's an addiction, and now you don't know how to live without it. You've been lonely your entire life, only to ever be accompanied by the daydreams and thoughts inside your head, a place where no one can touch you, the only place that can be kept a secret from the world. You feed it with fiction because fiction is the only thing that truly satiates your loneliness. It silences the loneliness. Until you feel the way you do when you're locked away in your daydreams, that loneliness will always be there."

"How do I fix it?"

"Live. Simply to live. Accept that you are lonely. Don't be ashamed of your daydreams because with them, you produce the most amazing words that others can't dream up. Use your daydreams to introduce people to that feeling of sad love."

"That doesn't ease the loneliness."

"And nothing ever will. Not until you let someone know."

[n-0cturn]

I miss you. I really really miss you. My chest hurts because I still naturally smile when I think about you. I just really fucking miss you.

[n-0cturn]

i wish i said this to you but i kept crying

I want to thank you.

And I understand.

Thank you for choosing me. Thank you for taking a chance on a feeling that felt so foreign to you. Thank you for experiencing a healthy love with me even though you didn't understand it. Thank you for relinquishing logic for just a moment to be with me.

I understand.

The difficult part for me is that there is no lesson here for me... Maybe the lesson is that the way I love naturally and the love I give will never be right for someone who isn't ready for it. And that's okay. That's no fault of mine - it's no fault of yours either.

So, thank you. I'm grateful I was the one who showed you this kind of love, the type of love that's patient and kind. Love that considers you because it's natural and not because it's requested. I'm grateful I showed you a love that you didn't think you ever deserved.

I understand why you couldn't be with me, and maybe it's because in your reasoning that you put me first that I didn't understand initially. Maybe if you'd told me that you didn't deserve it, I'd understand. And that's my fault. I told you that no one can decide what I deserve, so I must also remember that. It's not up to me to decide what you deserve, and if you don't think you deserve someone who takes you as the way you are, then I can't tell you otherwise.

I'll leave you with these words.

It was a pleasure to love you - to fall in love with you. With you, I learned that I've finally let go of the bitterness left with me by others. The ones from the past no longer hold me back and no longer build my prejudice. With you, I learned that love is supposed to be easy. With you, I learned that it should feel natural and without the worry of the unknown. Thank you for being kind, and thank you for being there. Thank you for being you because, to me, it was more than enough. Even if you didn't think it was enough for me, I was happy with you.

I truly hope you know that. I have no bitterness towards you. I cannot heal your mind with love; I can only be someone who you'd know would always be by your side - I'm sure that scared the hell out of you. To have someone with you even in your darkest hours simply because they care is terrifying.

Figure out your life, figure it all out on your own. This is your fight, your life. I would never pressure you. My job is to simply be there for the journey. We didn't need each other. We chose each other.

And I will never regret choosing you.

[n-0cturn]

I don't want to sleep I don't know what I'll wake up to

[n-0cturn]

1:26am

I'm going to write this all down And hope that it no longer haunts me.

I loved every bit of you Every inch Every whisper Every flaw you thought no one else could love

I loved you from the moment you realized I wanted you I loved you every second of the day I fought with myself for loving you the way that I did And I thought you'd be the last person I ever love again

I loved the way you scrunched your shoulders when you laughed The inflections in your voice The sarcasm that came so naturally to you The care you had for your friends that you put above the rest There was very little about you that I couldn't love And it was my fault that I thought you'd love me the same

I hate to admit now that you're gone That I saw the brightest future with you One where you'd grow and I'd cheer you on One where I no longer had to wonder where love would come from Because it always came from you I hate to admit that losing this love somehow hurts more than the others Because it was nothing I did wrong It just wasn't in your nature

Fuck, I swear I loved you so much And I always did what I could to hide it I know I made you feel bad when I told you But I couldn't let you walk out that door for the last time without you knowing I only wish that we had more time Maybe another night where I knew it'd be the last Another night where I would wake up with you beside me and think So innocently "I can't wait to wake up to you again"

Just one more time I wish we could Just one more time Look at each other and think and wonder How could it get any better than this

I really did love you With all that I've got. And now you're gone. And I feel.... empty.

[n-0cturn]

The life I imagined just burned up before me

[n-0cturn]

8:49pm

He's warm. Not like summer or a hot spring day.

He's warm like a crackling fire in the middle of winter Bright embers of woods, still emitting their glow.

He's warm like an embrace Like the feeling of love on your cheeks Warm like a kiss From frost-bitten lips

He makes me feel warm Deep inside my chest.

I think I'm falling in love with you.

[n-0cturn]

"if it makes sense"

I said that on our first date. "If it makes sense, I just don't want to waste my time." It made sense You knew that before I did

In my mind, Time was what made things feel right Because I'd never taken my time before. It was always a rush, A rush to feel The feeling of that rush And then the inevitable crash and burn.

So I wanted more time, But you didn't need it You waited until I said it

"This makes sense." And you simply said "I know."