inspired by I’ll Keep You Safe by Sleeping At Last
August 22nd, 2015
She shouldn’t be with him. She should be with me. I know her; I know what she wants, what she likes and I know that he doesn’t. He doesn’t know her. Not like I do. I love her. I’ve loved her for years. I’ve loved her since we were thirteen and we sat at the top of the kids climbing frame and talked for hours about singing. I loved her even more when she told me she wanted to be on the stage. I said I did too. I loved her even more when she spent all night by my side when she introduced me to her friends. She didn’t care what people thought of her. She wanted to be next to me. I loved her even more when we stayed up till dawn talking about life, crying about exes, complaining about work, laughing at each other’s anecdotes.
I fell in love with her when she cried in my arms when she left, telling me how much she’d miss me, kissing my neck, holding me tight. I knew I was in love with her when I cried back. Me. Emotionless, insensitive me. I cried. I held her and I cried. I held her hand through the window of her car, kissed it hard, held it tight to my chest, promised I’d come and see her.
And she has no idea. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know I’m in love with her. She doesn’t know how I feel. I’ve never even had the courage to kiss her, let alone tell her. I’ll hold her all night, listen to her sobs, press my face into her hair, be the one that’s there when she needs them the most. But I can’t bring myself to take my lips off of her forehead and bring them those few inches down onto her lips. Maybe I’m scared of rejection. Maybe my subconscious is saying NO, she’ll push you away in disgust. ‘You’re like my brother!’ she’ll exclaim. But there’s also a part of me, a very small part that thinks… maybe she wouldn’t? Maybe she’ll kiss me back, hold onto my hair, her breath hot in my mouth and tell me she’s wanted me to do that for years.
I told her that I’d keep her safe, no matter what. I told her she didn’t need to be scared anymore because there was no way I’d ever let anything hurt her. She’d looked up at me with those eyes the colour of a summer sky, tears saltier than a sea breeze and said she believed me. I promised I’d never let anything hurt her? If I’m selfish enough to tell her the truth, I’ll send her brain somersaulting and no doubt cause her a world of hurt. I can’t tell her. If she thinks she’s happy with him, then I have to sit back and let it happen.