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New Wings
I’m an amateur for love. I have had countless crushes, more than the fingers I can count in my hands. As for how many times I have been in love, you can find the answer in just one hand. Subtract four and there you have it. That was when I was able to distinguish the difference between having a crush and being in love, a question that persisted in my mind for as long as I can remember. Who knew that finding out the answer would be a huge slap to the face? I’d do anything to revert this love back to an innocent crush. Or to diminish it into something neutral, to something that doesn’t involve butterflies in the stomach, sweaty hands, a rapid palpitating heart, thoughts that consume the mind for days, hours and minutes until you feel as if you’ll take your last breath. This is probably what goes through everyone’s minds when they suffer an unrequited love. Or a love you thought you almost had a hold of, only for it to slip away in a matter of seconds. A dolorous love. But would I do anything to change my past and to not have met you? No. Almost as soon as I met you, you took me under your wing. I was your pupil and you were my teacher. A novice to love. As soon as my wings sprouted, you taught me to fly. Together, you and I went through a rigorous yet exciting journey, that is, until you cut my wings and took away my ability to fly. From there, I pummeled. I went crashing down, slowly, but surely, until I met the concrete, harsh ground. By then, I was nothing. Or at least I thought I was. What I didn’t know was that underneath the wings you have severed from me, there were new wings, waiting to bud. Larger wings. Resistant, durable wings that can no longer be taken away from you. Wings I vow to protect for as long as I can. I do not owe you any credit. There is no need to thank you for helping me make this discovery. Rather, it is me I am most grateful to, for deciphering life’s harsh lessons, for not letting the loss of my wings consume me and shroud me into the depths of depression and darkness. For discovering that underneath a great loss is an even greater gain. I will no longer let you soar the skies with me; it would shame me to do so. My remarkable wings are too grand to be seen alongside yours. I am no longer a novice to love.
-stephyisfeelinginspired
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Nothing
I said, “I like what we are now.” You asked, “What are we?” I said, “Nothing because being something was too painful.”
-stephyisfeelinginspired
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