I am in love with a boy that does not exist. He’s still ever present, within memories and fondness and jealousy and forgotten connections. He’s prevalent in everything present, up to a few years back, before we met and started and fell so hard, when he and I were both nonexistent to each other.

Hey babe.
And now, alive in simple fading memory, he could just as easily not exist. Rare, fleeting interactions make for revisiting the past, not any movement towards a future. He flits in and out in simple whispers of words, sweetly tasteless and meaningless.

How long shall you be staying?
We could fall back into our cyclic fighting, the backwards Sisyphean sidling never fixed enigmatic existence. But how easy this could fall and disappear… It’s just the easiest type of metaphorical murder, with words as sharpened knives and apathy as atomic bombs. This could just as easily be an irreparable genocide of feelings, catharsis the only remnants of letting go.

So how long shall I see you?
Can’t we just go back to the way we never were?

Nothing can ever be simple. I’m a walking complication…

Fight out of this conundrum, out of dysfunction as normalcy into better than average?

Say something.
Find the balance; pull at the strings to start this clock beyond an ever present point of detonation?

I don’t know what to do…
Fall into what should have been?


Uncommitted. Cut off. Apathetic. Nonexistant.

And you are lovely. I love you too.