“I don’t need you anymore,” he says, pushing another pretty face in front of him. “I have her.” I’m replaceable. He doesn’t need me.
“Söpö poika,” I say, and the ocean is beautiful on my birthday, and I am lost beside it.
Was it always about filling a silence? A role he couldn’t keep himself? Not a friendship but a voice to speak to.
It is a beautiful language. One day I will learn, one day. And I put it off and off and off, forever.
We seek to understand each other. It’s good to make this a life’s ambition as it would take more than a lifetime.
He didn’t know what he wanted. And now he wants nothing. He can hide from it if she speaks loud enough.
It has been a year and it has been three years and it has been three months. Can you miss someone who doesn’t miss you?
There is no going back after an ending. There is no life in it. There is no point to try. Let him find another face. The epilogue is not a good story. I know, I have tried to live it.
I don’t know if this is a good way to think, or simply a truthful way, or just my truth. You can’t save anyone. You can’t save yourself. All you can do is try to stay a beautiful person, and live your short life beautifully.