Pitch Black.

It was pitch black. His heart that is. I knew his heart was pretty dark when we met, but I thought I would be the one to peel away the smothering black walls to give him some air, expose him to some light.

I considered myself to be a very positive person and I, using what I know from the laws of second-hand smoke, thought the more I was around him the higher the chance he would have of assimilating some of my second-hand positivity into his life. Yet, he remained black. Black like the coffee I hated. Black like the jelly beans that I always left behind. Black like the daytime sky everyone ran from.

Some days I thought I saw the corners of his mouth turn up, producing an unfamiliar grin, but I could never be too sure. I, on the other hand, smiled more often than not. We were polar opposites and what I knew was that opposites attract and I thought my heart was strong enough to withstand his constant negativity springing from heartbreak, trust issues and a lack of love. I needed my heart to be strong enough so that I could be victorious in putting his heart back together again.

Pretty soon, I felt like I was getting more of his second-hand negativity than he was my positivity. I knew then I was the one succumbing to the laws of second-hand smoke. When my heart could no longer take the weight of his permanent pessimism, I permanently set in my mind to end our present and future. I would let myself into his apartment, walk right up to him whether he was showering, cooking, shaving or exercising and end our one-sided relationship. But, when I arrived he was doing none of these things. Instead, I found him putting down white and red rose petals that led from the door to the patio. He turned around in an excited hurry, proceeded to get on one knee and asked if I would marry him.

In this moment he smiled so widely I thought the black was washed from his heart. I almost second guessed my plan, but I knew better. With an expressionless face and a motionless body, I stared at him for three seconds (just to make sure it was real), turned back around and walked out of his life. I left his apartment key and no final words behind. It was pitch black. My heart that is.


One thought on “Pitch Black.

Add yours

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s


Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: