“He awoke each morning with the desire to

“He awoke each morning with the desire to do right, to be a good and meaningful person, to be, as simple as it sounded and as impossible as it actually was, happy.
And during the course of each day his heart would descend from his chest into his stomach. By early afternoon he was overcome by the feeling that nothing was right, or nothing was right for him, and by the desire to be alone.
By evening he was fulfilled: alone in the magnitude of his grief, alone in his aimless guilt, alone even in his loneliness. I am not sad, he would repeat to himself over and over, I am not sad.
As if he might one day convince himself. Or fool himself. Or convince others–the only thing worse than being sad is for others to know that you are sad. I am not sad. I am not sad. 
Because his life had unlimited potential for happiness, insofar as it was an empty white room. He would fall asleep with his heart at the foot of his bed, like some domesticated animal that was no part of him at all. And each morning he would wake with it again in the cupboard of his rib cage, having become a little heavier, a little weaker, but still pumping. And by the midafternoon he was again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else, someone else, someone else somewhere else. I am not sad.” 
This inspired my previous post. Genius. 🙂

She Is Not Sad

There’s this girl who keeps on telling herself  “I am not sad.”

Inside her is a broken heart, a story which she can’t tell her friends about. Because she doesn’t want them to say “Are you okay?” and she doesn’t want them to feel dismayed.

“I am not sad.”

She keeps on telling herself.

Even if at night, her tears seem to never run out. Only her pillow can hear her silent screams. Only her blanket wipes her every tear.

“I am not sad.”

She whispers everyday. She keeps on convincing herself that everything’s okay. She puts a smile in her face, practicing the way she would flash them so bright enough for everyone to think that she’s doing great.

“I am not sad.”

These are the only words she can hold onto. So that she can put herself together, and pretend that she had never fallen apart.

“I am not sad.”

She keeps on telling herself. Because she doesn’t want to give him a reason to be glad.

“I am not sad”, she says. She wants to prove to him that she is fine even without his love.

“I am not sad.”

“I am not sad.”

She may be broken now, but I tell you she is not sad.

(c) KC Montegrande, 2013

The 365th Letter

Dearest Allison,

Today I am writing you my final letter. If you are reading this, it would be the 365th letter I have written since you departed from me exactly one year ago. You haven’t responded to any of my previous letters and, I have to think, that it means it was simply a summer fling. I’m still waiting for you. I want you to know. But I feel it’d be in both of our best interests for me to stop writing. 

I have to think that the two of us being together would hold beautiful things. I believe it was meant for us and that, without each other, we are living mediocre lives. Remember when we first met? Remember how we were two birds in the ocean? We could have flown away together, you know. Or lived together in the house I’m building for both of us. Nothing is in the past to me. Love knows no past tense. You either never loved or never stopped. And I, dearest Allie, never stopped. 

The night we left each other, I heard your parents speaking about how we didn’t know love – how we were too young. But, Allie, what we had, was love. I can promise you that. No one in the world will ever be able to experience what we had. What we have. They will love, but not as whole-heartedly and selflessly. They won’t feel the stinging pain that occurs for every second you are apart from one another. 

But, Allison, I am truly sorry for whatever it was that I have done to drive you away. I am sorry if it seemed I didn’t love you enough, but I can assure you that I loved you more than I have ever loved anyone or anything. I loved so much it hurt. Thank you for laying in the street with me, thank you for being a bird, thank you for loving me as much as I loved you, thank you for teaching me about life and love and companionship. I want you to know that I am grateful for the person you are and the person you shaped me to be. In everything I do, I will think of you. And I hope you’re thinking of me too. Smile at what we had and smile at who you are. Live everyday to its fullest and be genuinely happy. That is what I wish for you. Happiness. 

I harbour no resentment towards you. I only have love and I wish the best things in the world for you. At the same time, I selfishly wish things could have ended on a different note. I am not bitter, nor am I angry. I find no fault in the decision you made because I can only see beautiful things when I look at you and only think beautiful thoughts about you and for you. Why? Because you are beautiful.

Love always,

Noah Calhoun