You were that first guy, the one whose sight broke me into a million pieces. It only took one look from you for me to remain undone and confused for the rest of the day, wondering why things were the way they were.
You were that first broken heart. It’s weird, though, because you never did get to use my heart. You mocked it and you threw it away, only one more out of dozens of other hearts like it, meaningless and anonymous. I guess it’s not necessary to know the contents of a heart in order to break it. The scar is still here, it’s invisible but it hurts and stings from time to time.
You were the friend in whom I trusted, the one whom I believed could become something else before I realized that I was reading the signs all wrong.
You were my mindmate, not my soulmate. That weird-looking dude with a bit of John Nash and a dash of Peter Pan thrown in, the one who could be such a gentleman and such an idiot at any given time, without even realizing it. You broke my mind and heart into a puzzle and I now know that you never noticed. The pieces of the puzzle are still mixed up and I’m afraid there’s a missing piece. The one you stepped on, the one who got stuck to that piece of gum on the sole of your sneaker, which left with you until you realized and you took it off and threw it in tome garbage bin.
All that remains of you now is fog, smoke, a light chill, a soft brush of wings against my fingertips, a suggestion of light, shadow, shape, all those things I thought were real but aren’t really there.