I Love Him More Than My Heart Can Take
“This time I’m not leaving without you”
I miss him. I sat outside his apartment block all night in the pouring rain, chasing my heart around my head to the tune of murmured love songs. I imagined being up there with him, sleeping in heaven; but I’m staring up at those high lights and I know he’s not coming down at 4am. How lonely he must be in that castle of his. Even in my tiny room, I connect the little pink flowers on the wallpaper and feel the silence, the sucking loneliness. As we turned to walk away from the whole scene at 7am, I could barely push myself forward. I am tied to him by an elastic band and the further away I move the harder the moving becomes, and that day I stopped dead in the middle of the street. The sky was paling grey, rain waiting in the clouds, but I couldn’t stop the tears from searing my cheeks. They were anguish and sorrow, and all of the pain that I caused when I left him suddenly entered my chest, seized my palpitating heart and began to tear it slowly out, pulling apart, one by one, every vein and cord which held it in place - stretch, stretch, snap. Stretch, stretch, snap.
Shelby goes on about how we both made mistakes. For a long time, I blamed him for everything. All alone I have come to see that I was the one who shattered his precious, fragile heart - twice - and everything I hated him for doing to me I did to myself. All that time I was pretending I hated him - I told people horrible things that just weren’t true, he never hurt me - I was only trying to bury the love. You see, I love him more than my heart can take, and I was terrified of that. I was so scared of being happy that I threw everything he gave me back in his face and ran for cover. Yes, that boy I disappeared for is an angel; I saw wonder in his every detail, running over it again and again I became obsessed with his heavenly perfection. I missed the cold, hard fact that he never loved me, never would. That is the brutal truth. And I don’t suppose I ever loved him, either. But that’s enough about some angel.
I love him. This I know. Often, this is utterly all I know; my mind swirls in mist and amidst it I become lost and confused, tripping through the blinding grey, always further away from the path I was on, but I hold on to that. I always have known that I love him and that I will not love another, nor will another love me with such fullness or tenderness as he. I do not know whether I believe in Soulmates or whether I ought to. All I know of that condition is that I always find my way back to him. For the third time now I have swum a massive circle in strange waters, only to find that in this vast sea there is only one place I call home. Since I have been coming back to him, Seoul has ceased to feel temporary. Now I have to leave... London. When the lights of that dead, screaming city hit my horizon, his love will hold me up.
Of course it is not too late. We are hurting the same. Let’s make this easier. Come back to me. Come back to me. I love you with everything that I have.
