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My arm outstretched, fingers touching the sheets, I felt a chill run through my body when I felt nothing but the sheet. I didn't want to open my eyes, I didn't want to deal with the loneliness, the lack of him.
And he wouldn't, for it was temporary, clearly it was. I brought my arms close, and hugged my body, imagining there was someone there, because after all, there was.
Surely his brown hairs were spread over my mattress, his brown eyes were open, he was certainly looking at me with a smile on his face, maybe it was a serious face, but he still looked at me, I wouldn't know because my eyes were closed . His lack of clothes, his lack of bandages, because he trusts me enough to show his scars, it's obvious he does, he always has. I am the only person he shows his scars to, the only person he smiles at, he admires my weaknesses, he admires my face and even what I see and terrifies me in myself.
He understands my ideals, he understands my motives, and he caresses my face with the morning wind, I know he does it. My desires, he's the only one who looks at me and doesn't tell me I'm just an idiot, that I'm not really God.
I felt him lift off the mattress, this from the slight way my body leaned as he stood up, he walked and making the wood creak with every step, I can hear the toes of his feet against the floor, even the skin. with skin from your legs, from your arms.
The door ajar, it didn't creak because it wasn't the wind, it is more delicate than the wind, trying not to make any noise so as not to disturb me, of course. He went to the kitchen to prepare coffee, our coffee.
The night before he had shown me his love, the night before he had loved me, the night before he had learned to love me, the night before he had realized that he loved me.
I know that.
When we're not together I miss him, when he's far away he texts me, I know he does. My message box is certainly not empty, and I certainly have his number in my cell. I have.
He smiled at me, I know that.
It is said that if you repeat too much it actually becomes reality. So I know my house is not empty, the ghost of your existence is in it.
Dazai is here, I'm sure.
And he's fine.
My house is not grey, it does not take on the color of loneliness. It's not just my corner bed in an empty room, it's not loneliness, no, because he's here, and he makes the house full. The blankets aren't just wrapped around me and I'm not glued to the wall with the whole huge empty bed, she's still warm, her body has warmed her so she's full.
I've never been alone, I know that, I've never needed to be alone. I always had him.
He never left me, since we met at fourteen, he never left me, I know that. He never tried to leave me, and he never chose another, he never preferred red.
They say if I repeat something, it really...
Really…
Really…
I'm sure…
Certainly… I am not empty.
I'm not lonely.
He's standing at my door, arms outstretched, he'll tell me that when I hug him.
I repeated it thousands of times, I believed, I had faith. So I will open my eyes now, and he will be there.
I must open.
My eyes opened, with the restlessness of my being, with the anxiety. Adapting to light.
AND.
Everything is grey.