A Mundane Reality

I can see him staring out the window in a peaceful state. Hair just shooken up from the past sleep, he runs his fingers through his blonde streaks and begins to determine his next steps. I want to be there, next to him, making sure he makes the right choices. The world is a terrible place to be, and I want to push all of that away from his being. But he can handle himself. I have seen it first hand. He then moves over to his bag, slowly packing it to get ready for the day. College was not all it had been cut out to be, but the man knew he had grown more in these past years than ever before. We both seemed to attract the unwanted, whether it be a string of intrusive thoughts or a flood from the skies. I am not one to handle life's tragedies very well, but he is different. Troubles seemed to bounce off of him like nothing I had ever experienced, and he was always coming back as if it was almost a good trouble. He had this way about him, brushing off even the hardest of tasks and tackling them head on. I could always see when it came back to him though, whether in the middle of a bar or sitting in the sun at the gardens, there was a sense of chaos behind his eyes. I often found myself getting lost in them, wondering what had shaken this poor boy to his core, but he never minded it. Occasionally, I'd hear something from him about his past, but never in full detail. 

Getting prepared for the day ahead, he took his sketchbook and pen, which he never left without. The boy walked into his living room and greeted his friends. I’ve always admired a house of friends, all excited to exit their rooms for the first time in the mornings. It's a drug to see someone’s face flush with relief when you walk in a room. People always felt this way about him. He was an everlasting presence, always positive about the day and his emotions. I knew his friends loved him and he loved them back. To this day I still think about the love in his body, always caring for what he could. I wanted to be in his circle of peace so bad, I remember gnawing at my own thoughts. I did not want to tarnish his beauty, but I seemed to do just that anyways. He never minded though, which was the scariest part. He was always there for me, even when I did not want him to be. But it also went the other way, with me begging him to show care and him not budging. He has always been one for boundaries, which I seemed to lose sight of during these tumultuous years. I always pushed him and he would push back, placing me right where I needed to be, a slow distance behind him. 

On his way to his first class that day, he stopped to take an extra look at the grand tree across from his apartment. The tree stood at the corner of a massive field, marking the outskirts of the campus. He, like me, always took another second to look at the beauty, and then quickly put his music back on and continued his journey. I want to scream thinking about him continuing his normal life, without me by his side. He never deserved me, though. He needs something better. And he knows that. He continues everyday with the conscious decisions to keep himself out of danger’s reach, my reach. He takes each step carefully, to not disturb the peace he so carefully curated for himself. Why would I want to destroy that? But I do. That's all I want to do. Even months later I find myself wishing to just walk next to him once more. I want to remove his circle of safety and tear at his bones while begging him to look my way. But he wont. He knows. So I keep my distance, happily trailing behind metaphorically, ready to pounce the minute his barrier is let down. 

I hate myself for this, why can't I just leave him alone? He wants nothing from me, needs nothing from me, and continues without me, very well indeed. I keep my distance out of both respect for him and disrespect for myself. I am not sure why I let this happen, but he just continues on. He gives no thought to the people he left behind, or those so desperate to be there with him. He walks with purpose, with ease. I want to walk with ease. I miss stepping into the light and laughing with his peaceful voice. I miss sitting next to each other, reminiscing on all the past delights we so willingly used to share together. I want to bust through his apartment door and scream nonsense as I drop to my knees. I am sorry. I want nothing more than to express my gratitudes and regrets. But I know this will never happen. 

He gathers his longing courage and bustles up the steps into the large brick building where he studies for the future. A future I will not be a part of. A future that he will thrive in, because I know how much he can do for the world. He is strong, passionate, and caring. He is one for the stars and will reach for nothing less. The man is everything and nothing, a whisp in my life, but everything to his own. I want so dearly to share this everything with him, but he is okay without me, and always will be. I will always have my regrets, but know there is not much I can do but patiently sit on the outside of my mistakes. I continue this thought loop daily of him living his mundane life, not knowing the needs people have for him. Not knowing the fear I have for him daily, not knowing the care that I have placed perfectly on his reality. I am too scared to come out of hiding, for his sake and mine. So I wait. I wait as if there is something to wait for. I don't know. Maybe one day I will be perfectly placed in your path once more.