I stood in the shower. The water touched my skin, my body was silent and still.
I stood there so quiet, that I almost thought I had done something wrong.
Words that I wanted to write to you came to my mind.
But I have already written it to you someday.
Writing to you once again, would make me a fool.
So I am writing it here.
Leaving it up in the air. Up to chance.
A message in a bottle.
Writing it for someone to see.
Perhaps it is even you.
To who I write.
I am no fool.
‘I don’t think we should meet anymore’.
‘I don’t understand why you couldn’t have said it to me?’
‘That you already made plans’.
‘I brought us food, for us, to eat’.
‘The meeting of your friend, the reason we couldn’t eat’.
‘It sounded to me, you were going to see someone else’.
‘And when I asked you if I should come over to make food, you didn’t have this plan yet’.
‘It developed on my way when I came to you’.
‘Just because of the way, you said you were going to see a friend’.
I know we are not exclusive, but it has to do with some sort of respect.
Towards me, but perhaps not even.
Perhaps it is your own respect you lost, somewhere down the line.
Down the line of life.
I am giving you the benefit of the doubt.
Perhaps because it is easier. Than to admit.
‘You broke my heart’.
So many thoughts cross my mind.
When I dry myself from the shower.
I have told you many times and here once more.
I think we could have worked out.
But you did something unnecessary.
I know you meant well and didn’t mean to hurt, but somehow it did and I think it was unnecessary that it happened like this.
It is still hurting me and it is a reason I can never be more with you than just what it is now and perhaps a friendship.
Who knows really?
I saw a reel on Instagram.
The images of that content are passing my eyes.
An Indian Guru.
He is speaking about being angry and that giving your anger to someone, is a privilege you give a way.
But how beautiful it sounds to not give that privilege to you.
The words alone from this man don’t hold ground.
Maybe I am not talking just about this Indian Guru.
However, I am still angry.
These feelings don’t just disappear, just because I don’t want to give the privilege to you of being angry.
So I fold my socks, nice and neat.
The thoughts and anger slowly move away.
I felt for you deeply, is all there is left for me to say.