It took a while for me to hit the ground.
It felt like recollection,
like dreaming of childhood summers,
but only on the days when I didn't want to cry.
Sometimes, he felt like autumn evenings curling up with a good book.
Others, he felt like the first time careening down a water slide.
Both were good. Great. Amazing.
I had to stop falling.
That's how gravity works.
I hit the ground
but it didn't hurt as much as I thought it would.
He was still there.
Still my summer breeze. Still helping me fill my void.
Still making the darkness hide in a corner of my heart.
Sometimes, though, the darkness gets to come out.
Like, when I first hit the ground,
and the sweetness of his lips tasted saccharine.
Too sweet, like falseties. Processed sugar & waxy tongue.
Like everytime I cast away my doubts, I was being stupid.
Like, it wasn't just my trust issues, it was his issues with commitment.
Like falling was no longer a water slide,
It was punishment.
But I was able to shake it off because the sugar was addictive ,
but nothing was as addictive as his touch.
And when I fell,
I fell deep.
And I still don't know if I'm throwing away my negative thoughts,
or if I'm simply being naive.