secondhand heartbreak

xii. before and after

after that first night, there is a clearly marked before and after.

(much later, i realize that this is not true, not at all—there is a before, a during, and an after.)

(and even then, the lines blur.)

(but i didn't know that yet.)

there was a before, when it was just him and i: inky black darkness and long stretches of silence and a monotone sense of apathy that was terrifying in its normalcy.

and there was a during, when it was him and her and then me: suddenly so much brighter that i had to learn to shield my eyes—

because looking at her was like staring directly into the sun.

she
b u r n e d
from the inside out

everyone else was either burning with her, engulfed in the flames, or they got caught up in the smoke

he knew this, yet chose to burn anyway. if loving her meant burning alive, he would happily strike the match himself. there were worse prices to pay.

(too bad we didn't know how everything would burn out afterwards—most of all him.)