| | back & forth | | ||||||||
| December 31, 2013 @ 11:42 a.m. | ||||||||
| Definitely the almost anger | ||||||||
There was a kind of definitive sadness in that: your grip, your shame, your panic. Because it was something I could never change. And we could have been great together! Happy, even. With you, there was nothing in me fighting the relationship. I just was. We just were. And we fell so easily into it. But the memory is still so clear. The hot sun. Your hateful cousin and his beautiful wife. Your amazing friends. That wonderful brother of yours. And your hand painfully gripping mine. Your face buried in my neck, hiding. Your voice panicked, almost angry: Why had I answered! Why had I told them my age?! But dear Nikolaos, in your shame you did not see your brother's encouraging smile. Your friend's amused grin and nod. No. In hiding all you heard was the cousin and his hateful comments. I can't believe you are with him! You are young. Why are you with the old man? Really?! What's in it for you? Hateful man. Those condescending eyes, that smirk of a smile. Spiteful man. There was so much I could have said. But my anger was quickly overwhelmed by the blooming sadness in my chest. The clear thought that we were not going to last. Because I would never be able to bridge that eleven year gap. And the shame, and definitely the almost anger, screamed you minded very much. But then, Athan happened... |
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| movingsands | | o | p | n | d | | |||||||