So pavement is the inner workings of my thought manifested into story. It is my current state of being (with some exaggeration I am a bit more happy now) Lets just called this a fictional narrative tale based on true…feelings…
And with a heavy heart and a deep breath, the young man turned his back. The tears that was racing down his face no longer had a source, as if his eyes had exhausted all available resources needed to produce them. It didn’t matter. He no longer needed to cry. Love had played its last bitter hand. He was finally broken, damaged beyond repair. “Who needs this?” He muttered under his breath. He lifted the hood of his black sweatshirt over his head and begin to walk into the dark night without a thought to his destination. Indeed, who needs this? Given all of yourself away only to be hurt and hurt over again. His thoughts were clouded between the happiness and the sadness. The void clawed at his throat, gripping it ever so tightly. “I just… ” he muttered to no one. Trying to make sense of it all; to rationalize emotions. He continued to walk the barren street. In the background he could hear people calling his name. He heard the footfalls of others trying to catch him. He felt the warmth of other people’s hands on his back. He heard the advice from his friends. Still, he felt empty. “It’s my fate. I must be an awful guy. No one should ever be with me….I will be alone,” the young man thought. Even with the best intentions, his friends couldn’t bring him entirely back. He walked the barren street.
Months passed. He regained a little of himself. He could smile and be sociable. Laugh and even help others. His heart became an empty revolving door though. People would come in. Get to know him. See the ugliness of his past, the trauma that was still fresh. Pretend to care and slowly leave. He got used to it. “I deserve this,” he would think when someone else disappeared. Love? What’s that? He slowly stopped caring, wanting, and needing it. He continued to walk the barren street. Afraid now, of the newfound power he’s gained from being damaged. “It’s like a zombie or vampire effect,” he chuckles. He knows now that he can hurt others. Make them like him. He is still too kind though. He doesn’t do it. He lets people out of his heart easily.
Months pass
“Oh what’s this?” He ponders to himself. His cold heart sends him a sense of warmth. Somebody smiles at him. Holds his gaze a little too long. Embraces him. Finds him fascinating. His heart flutters. He blushes. He smiles a bit more. He has a crush. ” I’m grown, with a crush!” He laughs late into the night, but with no one else. Everyone has gotten a bit tired of trying to help repair his damaged heart. Tired of his assholeish, standoffish, nature. He laughs in the middle of the barren street with no one else. “I hahahahaha I have a friggin crush hahaha what am I 14?!?” He yells in the street. He smiles more. Thinking of a way to actually pursue. He feels like he is ready
The street reminds him that he’s not. Voices from the edge tells him of his potential damaging effect. That it will wind up like the last one. That he needs to continue to walk upon the street. It’s not worth it to chance it.
The street was right. A few weeks pass. The crush, turns out isn’t interested at all. Just friendly. Oh and they have a companion.
Unfazed, the young man continues down the street.
Years pass.
The young man, his black jacket ruined. His tims torn finally sits. He begins to feel tears stream down his face. He looks back on the barren street. “How long have I been walking?” He thinks to himself. It doesn’t matter. None of it ever did. “What was my destination?” He tried to think over and over again. He sat
Months passed
He heard the footfalls of another coming down the street. He rose to meet the new comer. He hoped maybe two damaged hearts could fix each other. He held the idea tight to his chest. The other person saw him, and continued to walk. “Too warm” was what was muttered.
Weeks passed.
The young man is still walking the barren road.
Sent from my iPhone
walkingshoes365 