Tortuous Pleasure

I thought it was just another silly fight, where you'd cry, turn around and I'd have to run over and grab your hand and not let you go. You would yell “let go” and our anger would blind pretty love. What was it worth to you to try? It was our day to day life.

That night it was cold and as soon as I turned around I went numb, I felt a bucket of cold water emptying down my back. No matter, it served as a camouflage for my tears. And of course I felt like looking you up and telling you that I didn't owe you an apology, but I also didn't want to end this because, although it's not my strong suit to show you, I do love you, of course I love you. But it's this pride, this damn pride that doesn't let us know fullness. I'm going to change. I promise, okay?

It never crossed my mind that that night would be the last time I would say to you: “it's over”, because I thought that phrase had lost its meaning with so many times we said it, don't you think?

Please believe it because, even though my mouth pronounced “leave if you want to”, at the same time my heart clung to you, scratching every part of your skin. It was always like that because I knew you were coming back, I was coming back.

After months and so many times hearing you say that I was to blame I ended up believing it, and as in all the times you looked for me, you were already with someone else.

Must I wait until I break your heart for me to be your motive again? Because yes, when you were with someone I was the one who had to wait for you and I wasn't supposed to be with anyone else, of course not; I was supposed to be on the bench.

While that happens I will try to make myself strong, to build a wall that prevents us from meeting again, because, although I want what is ours, this hurts me. I want to tear you away from me so I can be calm and stop dreaming about you, because even in my dreams you achieve a mantle of melancholy and with each “hello” you hurt my soul like a thistle. I like how it hurts.

Every time you come back you are another, I am another, we hurt each other more and more, but with that thirst of your lips, with that anxiety of our bodies, seriously you drive me crazy.

Then this becomes intervals and so years have passed until you really left, and not because you were no longer looking for me because yes, you did, but you were no longer completely you, someone had stolen your essence.

And the wall I had built becomes paper, when you call me I can't say no, although I know that as soon as I look at you the massacre will begin, one after another my feelings will fall before your swaying affection, and I will give in knowing that your intentions are not to be with me, but I will continue to believe that one day you will return. You who falls asleep with every movie in my legs, the one who kisses my forehead and tells me don't go away.

I know, I know you will come back.

Photography by Katie Silvester