Dickens

In the dark, we are black and white
In the morning, colourblind

– 5 Seconds of Summer, Not in the Same Way

It’s hard here. People say this is where dreams come to die. But this is where my dream originated. My dream of you and I. My heart still resides on the last shelf of the book store where our hands touched, accidentally. Where I felt alive for the first time. Where I met you. Both of us were reaching for a Dickens while hiding a bestseller. Appearance mattered more than choice. I am glad they did, at that moment. They bought me to you. My own bestseller.

The world consisted of just you and I whenever we met. We hid each other from the world. We hid together from the world. Those late mornings with lavish breakfasts of coffees, apples and pancakes are still imprinted in my brain.

They tell me to write about anything but love. So I’ll write about you. I’ll write about chaos, despair and heartbreak. And something. That existed once upon a time. Something that is not love. Something that is deeper and greater. But something like that, something so pure couldn’t last in this world.
Forces had been deployed to destroy it even before it existed.

The same thing that brought us together pulled us apart. Appearances. I didn’t look good on your life sheet, and that mattered to you. You weren’t good on mine either, but it didn’t matter to me. Wait. Who am I kidding? You are gone now. I can accept it. Appearances do matter.

You decided to hide me from the world, just as I did. Initially, it was fun. The two of us hidden away, in our own world, lost in the place of once upon a time-s and happily ever after-s. I was yours, completely, but eventually, I realised that you were never mine, never would be. You see appearances do matter. And that, admittedly, was the end of my world. Of our world. It was the point at which I realised that you were embarrassed of me.
Because even though we were each other’s bestseller, you weren’t ready to leave the Dickens behind.

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