The mornings come naturally now.
I get up and face the hope.
My sleeping bliss letting me forget.
I hold on to that bliss,
at moments I wish I didn’t,
at points I wish it wasn’t there.
Yet somehow I always wake,
with it at my side.
I hate how it fades.
I hate how that feels.
I hate how it disappears.
I hate it when it leaves me,
to make me face whats not there.
Though sometimes what I hate the most,
is at night when I fall asleep,
because I know it will be back as soon as I wake.
He looks into my eyes and my breathing stops, silencing my silly rambling. His eyes, being so intense, I became confused and unable to breathe. I focused on the bridge between his glasses, and breathed in slowly, feeling a little hitch as he moved closer. I looked back in his eyes, realizing he’s doing this because he loves me.
I bite my lip and look away, fear flashing through me. He makes a small noise, and I look back at him. He is no longer facing me.
“Eugene,” I whispered, studying his profile next to me.
He looks at me, his eyes betraying how much pain he’s in. I look down briefly not knowing what to do next and saw his hand near me, resting on the ground. His hand slightly tanned compared to the white cement we’re sitting on. I reached out and touched the tips of his fingers slightly. My heart sputtering with fear and hope. I look up at him. My eyes meeting his hesitantly.
“Eugene,” I whispered again, then with my voice increasing in pitch I say. “I’m not sure about this ending. I don’t know what will happen, I don’t know if this is worth it, I don’t know-” I stop speaking for he was looking at me again with that intense look. Making me forget everything, except the fact of how his hand is now covering mine.
He leans closer bringing his other hand to my face.
“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure everything will be perfect”