stay

                                    

                                          
 how ironic it is, after all of this time you were the one to nearly leave me in the end. 
                          
your thumb was on my lip again, the pad pressed against it. something to do with your strange obsession with leaving your finger print on me so that I would never forget you. 
                          
  you wrapped your little finger around mine when I  tried to stand up and you refused to release it, sniffling that I might leave you. 
                          
  at clubs you wouldn't even go to the bathroom by yourself because of the ever present terror that someone would sweep me off my feet and out of your life in the time you had gone to the toilet. 
                          
  i was actually angry when you skipped out on your own party because I couldn't make it. 'do you even care about yourself?' I had shouted in disbelief while you sat timidly on my bed, fringe hiding your shameful green eyes as you whispered.  ' yes, but I care about you more.' 
                          
it was impossible to fight with you. anxiety would hit you part way through a debate and suddenly you were crying and babbling and begging for me not to abandon you and the conflict was soon forgotten as I promised i wouldn't ever leave. 
                          
you trembled with the thought of me loving someone else and I raged at the idea that you would even consider that possibility. how could you not see that our infatuation was two sided. 
                          
late at night was your favorite time of the day. you claimed that it was because you studied the constellations but we both knew it was because you could hold me in your arms for hours knowing I wouldn't be going anywhere. 
                          
  over iced coffee and torn up sugar packets i let my imagination run wild and vocalized my playful fantasy of one day having dozens of children to dress up and adore. but you panicked, wide eyes and hardly perceptible quivering and pleas coming from your end of the table, something about not wanting me to end up loving the children more than I loved you. I remember the heavily weighted words I shouted in my outrage, crumpled napkin thrown to the floor;  ' my life will not be paid ransom to yours, connor franta' and then I stormed away, leaving both you and my coffee before you could weaken me once more. 
                          
 I dwelled on my explosion for that entire evening, cursing myself for handling someone so fragile, so roughly. i figured it was best to separate for a while, to let off some steam, but when you weren't under the covers by the time it was dark i knew my words had buried themselves deep beneath your skin. 
                          
  your actions submitted to my fears and i soon found out that the wretched words had dug themselves so deep that you had tried to resurface them on your own with the lid of a soup can and a pocket knife . I had never broken the speed limit as drastically as I did that night that drifted into a pastel sunrise, the gas pedal sunken under constant pressure. 
                          
  ' god, never scare me like that again' i sobbed, kneeling by the bleached white bed sheets, one wobbly hand gripping the sleeve of your night gown. I didn't let you apologize, shushing your weeping and instead slipping in next to you and squeezing your body to mine. for once I was the one begging you not to leave me.

                          
i wanted 2 update because I have like five billion drafts right now that I keep on switching around on!! 
                          
hope u enjoyed & are doing well <3