I still remember the rasp on your voice, the low whispers you uttered when you were half awake, not fully aware of the universe and its reality—worry not, my love, in those silent dawns we spent together, I was drown in my imaginations as well. I imagined how insane I would be if I could see you out of the screen and listen to your nearly-bass melodies.
I still remember the way your breath hummed through the drums of my earlobe and sometimes you would snore, but I never minded that. I, on the contrary side, was attracted to it. I imagined how insane I would be if I could lay beside you, watching you sleep, letting the inches between us grow shorter.
I still remember your laughs; the deep voice, held back, not forced, and it was all just remarkably enchanting. I fell head over heals in between your laughters and each time I listened to you rumbling about your days, you became much more addicting. I imagined how insane I would be if I could sit across you, drinking our cups of coffee, chuckling around about some lady who had her shirt inside out.
I still remember the way you would describe your scent; tobacco, wood, and vanilla mixed at once, creating a captivating potion that I would kill to sniff. You said it was so calming, so soothing, and I believed you like a religion I held onto. I imagined how insane I would be if I could run my fingers through your short and neat-cut hair, getting some hints of your scent on your neck.
But I woke up from my dreams
on February 25th, 2019.
I cried upon finding out that your raspy voice and those low whispers were illusions. Instead, yours is a sweet nectar, a soft melody. Your whispers are ones like mine; child-like and beautiful. I was insane, I was driven mad.
I cried upon finding out that your breath whilst you sleep was something I taught myself to believe. It was never addressed masculine yet I forced my mind to learn something unreal. I was insane, I was driven mad.
I cried upon finding out that your deep voice never existed. My wild imagination about us laughing on some coffee shop was a mere nonsense. Your laughs were explosive like mine, never held back, and in fact, sophisticating. I was insane, I was driven mad.
I cried upon finding out that the images I made on my mind about your hair being short and neat-cut were all fantasy. Your hair is long and wavy, it smells like vanilla and I could barely hint the tobacco. I was insane, I was driven mad.
I never thought I would fall for
someone pink, someone X.
I thought that I could only fall for
someone blue, someone Y.
But I fell in love with you.
Hence since that day,
my sky turned lilac
and never blue again.
— FORTEM GAIA; 18032019.
