Condolences at a Wedding

Once, I held a heart so gently that I feared the crevices of my palm are serrated enough to tear it. A soul intertwined with mine, unison that fooled angels to be one entity. Fate made us meet. Love made us kiss.

Stories of youth, hugs of warmth. Childhood at adolescence, innocence at maturity and purity after we tarnish. That is what love is, reversion of what we deeply yearn. But, the moment that feeling is scarred, nothing restores it. We just bury it with time, maybe a new journey of the same, but never a replacement.

An envelope of pleasant odors, Trojan Horse wrapping words that faced me with spears, making my eyes bleed. An invitation to a place where my heart is guaranteed to die, a funeral, where mourners dance in fancy dresses, unaware of who died. The deceased is the heart of the person who promised to remain just a friend. Distant, insignificant friend.

She's happy with him. I am happy for her. The heart that once beat beside mine will beat forever after beside his. A new journey she started, but the love we had is buried inside of her somewhere, barely breathing but not fighting for life.

Condolences at a wedding. I bury what's left in my heart with sights that tear me apart. The hand he holds, the lips he kisses, and the body he embraces. Dirt, bit by bit, her love wanes struggling for a light it won't see again, but will keep beating, knowing it won't ever die.

Image