my name is melancholy.
a/n: i'm not making any more communities just for my writing so you guys are still stuck with my original works. lol, indigohearts is for blurbs and i don't think people would appreciate it if i posted this without a cut. wrote this simply because i could and today was. ...saturday. --- dearcreativity, underatlantis, & indigohearts.
you watch them get married in the church around the corner from that park you two always played in as kids with laughter as high as the sky and dandelion necklaces falling apart around your necks.
he smiles at her with shimmering eyes that water out i love you and you pretend that he's looking at you, even if just for a second before the reality of vows and her voice lure you back. you can see how he calls her beautiful, with her violet red lips and dainty hands that could paint smoke into the air.
they kiss, and you can't pull your eyes away, counting the seconds like you remember doing with him, hide and go seek when you could've just looked inside your heart. you never planned to stay that long, just to say 'congrats' because you're still his best friend, still the person he comes to when he wants to cry, but you're not going to be for much longer.
the music comes on and you lend her your spotlight, leaning back against the wall draped with shadows instead of stealing the life of the party in that way you do. even with the added on lights, she doesn't shine as bright as him; no one ever has, you don't think, but it's okay because they spin and spin, and spin, until it's hard to tell the difference from two to one.
his eye catches you staring from across the floor like you guys would always be doing from across the room, across the street. he reads minds, you figure, but that doesn't stop you from lying and smiling, she's perfect for you.
later, when you get home that night, shoes finding their spot on the steps leading to your bedroom, it's dark and that much emptier. he has never been a constant in your small one bedroom apartment but for some reason, something's missing.
you pour yourself a cup of coffee, knowing that you're not going to sleep that night anyways. drinking by yourself at the kitchen counter is lonelier than it's ever been the first 41,857,345 times you've done it.
you don't finish drinking but you put the cup in the sink. it's a birthday present from three years ago given to you by him, you realize, with music notes littering the sides and the words-- i've been here as long as you've been here.
he isn't missing, you know, but you figure out that your heart is.
you watch them get married in the church around the corner from that park you two always played in as kids with laughter as high as the sky and dandelion necklaces falling apart around your necks.
he smiles at her with shimmering eyes that water out i love you and you pretend that he's looking at you, even if just for a second before the reality of vows and her voice lure you back. you can see how he calls her beautiful, with her violet red lips and dainty hands that could paint smoke into the air.
they kiss, and you can't pull your eyes away, counting the seconds like you remember doing with him, hide and go seek when you could've just looked inside your heart. you never planned to stay that long, just to say 'congrats' because you're still his best friend, still the person he comes to when he wants to cry, but you're not going to be for much longer.
the music comes on and you lend her your spotlight, leaning back against the wall draped with shadows instead of stealing the life of the party in that way you do. even with the added on lights, she doesn't shine as bright as him; no one ever has, you don't think, but it's okay because they spin and spin, and spin, until it's hard to tell the difference from two to one.
his eye catches you staring from across the floor like you guys would always be doing from across the room, across the street. he reads minds, you figure, but that doesn't stop you from lying and smiling, she's perfect for you.
later, when you get home that night, shoes finding their spot on the steps leading to your bedroom, it's dark and that much emptier. he has never been a constant in your small one bedroom apartment but for some reason, something's missing.
you pour yourself a cup of coffee, knowing that you're not going to sleep that night anyways. drinking by yourself at the kitchen counter is lonelier than it's ever been the first 41,857,345 times you've done it.
you don't finish drinking but you put the cup in the sink. it's a birthday present from three years ago given to you by him, you realize, with music notes littering the sides and the words-- i've been here as long as you've been here.
he isn't missing, you know, but you figure out that your heart is.