Heal yourself before you let anyone too close.
I wanted to heal myself before I leant too close to your heart, but it seemed as though the intimacy of nightfall took ownership of my will, well before I could prepare for the unknown of what comes next.
I couldn’t tell her no.

A fire was lit that night, though unsure if it was ours.

The trees were whistling with the sounds of whispers and I remember being afraid of moving too loud—as I was afraid of breaking the silence.

Our silence.
Our mouths salivating.
Our skin pierced with the teeth of blood sucking vessels.
Our fears enlarging.

Neither one of us wanted to move, no matter how painful.
However,
this was nothing compared to the pain we usually felt.

This was pain that one could appreciate for not being so heavy.

Your silence speaks of hidden languages that only a fellow hurt person could understand—I was only favored enough to understand it.
Similar to the way your eyes tell a story that is both beautiful and sorrowful if you stare too closely—so I don’t.

I turn my head the opposite way on your chest so that I could listen with more depth to the sounds of your heart waves.
I was overcome with a feeling of emptiness.
Hollow even, but a heart was still inside.
It’s beating faster than usual.
It’s the feeling of a race being chased by its own blood. Whoever stops the beating first is the most comfortable. There was no off button, no way to stop what was actually being felt.
We just had to wait for the intensity to cool down.

I told you that I was tired,
to which you replied “so fall asleep”
And I did—I attempted.

The sky took away the brightness of day, along with it the warmth of a summer evening. Though replaced with your presence. Nightfall no longer brought the fear of solitude and the self-sabotage my thoughts spawned. And I no longer feared of what happens if both our darknesses activated on such a night.

I whisper to you, “I can hear your heartbeat.”
Your silence was louder than your wavelength.

At that moment, I was unsure if words were allowed, unsure if I should have spoken—so I didn’t.

We are both broken inside, I can feel it. I can feel you.

We were both hesitant, but it still felt nice—to know that we both came from dark and twisted places, yet no matter how broken, we only saw each other as human.

I knew not to let go, as this hour was the only hour we had that time was allowed to stop. That’s what it felt like.
A pause.
A pause on all the heartbreak we’ve undergone.

I’ve been heartbeat to heartbeat
with other people before,
skin to skin,
but it never felt like when I was with you.
This didn’t feel so wrong.
Instead, this felt okay.
This felt like safety was an understatement.

I can feel your heartbeat again,
but this time its closer towards your lap,
with me laying across you.
You’re afraid to touch me—so you don’t.
However, you don’t want me to move.
Unfortunately, those were actions that we couldn’t act on.

Together, we reached safety within our hearts.
An unspoken true love.
Builders then constructed a home.
One with no loud anger, no worries, no glass boxes, and no heartbreak.
We put a pause to the hurt. How did we manage to do this? Perhaps the darkness that we shared created a dark hole. One that was powerful enough to create a temporary silence.

You were gentle. I was anxious.
I kept you warm, and you kept me still.
No anger, no worries, no fears, and no hurt.
We put a pause to the hurt. How did we manage to both come from dark and twisted places but still together, we were able to create something that was so whole and safe?
While only temporary, it was still nice.

I would then crawl into you and enjoy the sounds of love bugs within the air.
And before the night was over,

—before the sky released the brightness of the day…along with it the warmth of summer evening
—before the hours of dawn erased a memory of what special was held in that very moment…
—And before magic went back to being parable…

We allowed ourselves to be intimate in other ways.
That’s what I like to call sincere friendship.