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“Not this time, baby. Go on ahead without me. I’ll see you two later.”
I believe in, well, love. In its purest form—in the most intimate and selfless light it’s meant to be in. And dying young, protecting the two people I cherish more than my aching soul can bear, is an act of love I would do over for eternity if I had to.
Ghosts are sadness and regret. Our hearts bleed as much as the living.
Why is my chest filled with so much torment and grief? Why am I still so fucking depressed?
Men are coy like that, seeming entirely innocent before snatching your heart, splaying you out for all to see—spilling
The way the wind caresses him as he reaches out for me is like a ballad. One that I’ve danced to a million times over but never quite found the right footing to. His light brown hair is chaos and his eyes are a storm of greens, blues, and dashes of yellow. A parchment of sorrowful words written and scrawled—he reminds me of such a somber, nostalgic song—one of sadness and death. One never known. He is a ballad of phantoms… and, perhaps, one of hope.
“Of course, it hurts… I think it always will. But most things that wound your heart like this are worth it. It only hurts because of how precious we hold them. I’m never alone, not really, because I know they will carry the weight of me with them forever.”
“I cannot rid you from my mind, Ophelia. It’s as if you’ve instilled an illness of your own into me. You are the sole thought that ravages my mind as I lie awake at night. The ceilings make me think of you. The forest. Roses. Breathing—I cannot take breath without you eroding my sanity.”
She’s an ocean I’ve been swept up in, taken out into the depths where there will be no return. Together, we’ll be lost for eternity, and the sound of that is not unpleasant.
I’m not a phantom in this moment; I’m just a woman in an expensive dress running after a handsome, flirtatious man in a foreign country. The freshness of the air and buzz of the street lightens my heart.
Our laughs echo through the streets, bustling with cars and people. No one can hear us. Our laughter is a lovely sound, louder than the life surrounding us could ever be.
“Your light is contagious. Bright. I could find you in the depths of the underworld. Through mist and darkness. Through it all.”
would wait for you if it meant walking the cold castle walls of a cathedral until I lost my own identity. Until all I knew was you.”
“We create our own whispering darkness, don’t we?”
“I’ve wished for us,” I say finally. And it feels as though I’ve waited such a long time to say these words. “I’ve longed for a soul like yours. And here you’ve been all this time. Ophelia, even if we are stuck on this earth forever, I would find solace in knowing we are together.”
