“You and me, we used to be together, always. I really feel that I’m losing my best friend, and if it’s real I don’t want to know. Don’t speak, I know what you are thinking, don’t tell me cause it hurts.”
A tear runs down the thin crease of my face, too young to know aging but old enough to recognise the sorrow that surrounds me.
I cannot stop myself from remembering those words of yours. It was a beautiful day, the warm sun rays embraced our naked bodies distended on the green grass. Your body on mine, a slight ache and the world stopped moving, the scent of lavender invaded my senses and all I could see was the deepest of your soul reflected in your green eyes.
“Don’t fall in love with me” you said lying next to me, and it hit me like cannon ball in a peaceful day. You looked right through me with those eyes that once made me love and suddenly made me hate and fall in sorrow.
With six words you destroyed my idyllic world, my happiness, my desire to love. Everything started changing, I could not show you my love any more, every time I saw you the sky became grey and I got colder even if the sun was trying to shine through the clouds. My love was hiding behind all the sorrow but that pain was slowly eating my ability to be happy.
Around our, or I should say your friends, I started feeling nervous, agitated, angry, sad; you were not holding my hand any more, your large shoulder were not supporting my sorrow but making it worse. The warm hand that one day made me fly in the sky with just one touch now is cold and distant from me; and your eyes, those green eyes that made me love you, do not touch my pale skin as they used to.
When I go to my perfect home my mother does not look at me, she’s too busy painting her perfect nails and my perfect father is always working for the good of the family.
I feel that my white pillow is the only friend that can carry the sorrow in my black tears, not my, I would better say your friends, or my family, but a white cold pillow that, at least, will never hurt me.
A melancholic melody softly approaches my young mind, the radio is playing one song that I have never heard before and it slowly fills me: “I’ not here, this isn’t happening. In a little while I’ll be gone.” I close my eyes, dreaming of a world where you are still with me, holding my hand and kissing my red lips and with a tear gently running over my young skin I fall in a dream, where I am the Queen and you are the King.