Don’t expect me to love you when he knows my demons’ name and he knows how to hush them so I could sleep, while you just know me by my name and you only see me when I’m all smiles, beautiful, and happy. Then you always say that I’m beautiful, but that’s all you could ever tell me about me, isn’t it? What if the beauty fades? What if you see the demons inside me? They aren’t at all pretty. Can you hush them like he did? Believe me, you couldn’t handle what’s inside me. I tried a million times, and I still couldn’t.
He loves her in the most quiet ways, never saying I love you’ s, never doing grand gestures of love in public like those she often sees in the movies with the girl holding a bouquet of flowers from the leading guy, or like those that her girlfriends’ boyfriends do, publicly announcing their love in social media or being touchy feely in public. He never did those for her, but for some reason, his quiet love, that never ceases nor fades, still roars louder to her than the rest of the world begging for her attention.
In response to Daily Post: Silence
Witches are one of the most dangerous people you could ever meet, because they know how to harness both love and dark energies. How someone chooses to use love or dark is a matter of past encounters. Tell me of a witch that uses light and love, and I’ll tell you of a story of a girl that has been loved unconditionally by a man. Tell me of a witch that uses the dark forces and I’ll tell you of a story of abuse, heartbreak, and betrayal. For every girl that turns ruthlessly dark, is a boy with a smug smile who watched her burn and die multiple times and still claim it’s her fault all along, while he was the one who hiked her on the stake and throw the first embers of evil fire to her soul.
When I was young, I wanted to believe that I’m the kind of girl that book authors write about, the heroines, those that could fight and ride their own horses, those that could hold their own swords, battle with the dragons, monsters, and evil witches, and command a whole wizarding world. As I grew up, nothing much changes. I wanted to believe that I’m the kind of girl who is independent and self-capable, a girl who could hold her own self, fight her own battles, win this world with charm and intellect, make some outstanding achievements, and solve her own problems without needing anyone’s help.
So why then, here and now, when you kiss me, I feel like folding on myself? And when you touch me, I feel like a porcelain doll too vulnerable on your touch, and all I wanted to do is to curl up and sleep in your arms, and be engulfed with your warmth embrace and presence. What happen to my dreams of courage and self-independence? Why is it, here and now, I want to believe that maybe this time, I do not have to keep my eyes open all the time to fight the monsters that plague me before I sleep? Maybe this time, I could be as fragile, vulnerable, and trusting as I could be. Something I’d never been.
Darling, babe, love
dear, honey, sweetheart
there are different kinds of endearment
different ways of saying I love you
but none of it compared
when you say my name in full.
hearing my name
coming from your lips
makes me feel a lot more special
than I really am.