I had lucid dreams about what I thought you meant to me. Burn me with the light of a thousand matches and set fire to the girl I asked you to succumb to. People aren’t meant to be like that, to be enslaved to someone else’s mind. There are things you cannot understand until it’s one year later, walking home on a cold night, when you’ve had enough time to finally handle the emotions but not let them rule you.
That night has happened for me.
We used to do stupid things like scale buildings and drive around after everyone had gone to bed. It was more about the act of creating a way to be less bored than about the view from the top. That part of me will always live on, the part that loves the mystery of not knowing: the glory in the buildings we still had yet to climb, the roads we still left undiscovered.
Youth is wasted on the young, wasted on able-bodied reckless hearts who spend their golden days chasing after things - people - that will never love them back. I fall asleep crying tears of glitter, thinking about how brave we used to be.
There is earth; there is sky; there is space; there is an endless infinity of possibilities for the future. I think I knew it, back then, too, but I was never afraid.
Or maybe I was.
Maybe I felt the fear, and did it anyway.