Sunflowers which you never get

I forgot how your lips tasted. Your gaze, in which I could see reflections of everything you ever wanted to be and weren't. To how you smelled and how soft your skin was to the touch. To how I slept on your thighs, hugging you around your hips, as if it were the last time. Back then it was just the beginning of the end.

You are platonic. Who you are is not real. You are a romanticized version of yourself reminding me how much I wanted to have you without ever thinking it would work out. It couldn't. You were. You are not.

Platonic, unusual, beautiful, exotic, fearless, liar, toxic, evil...but most of all ancient. Now you are only ancient. A thought I return to when I feel alone. A story that began, but each time has a different ending. A desire that ignited only briefly, but the ashes still smolder. An unwanted reminder that you didn't want to be vulnerable when I was.

I was. I was flirting with the idea of something more, being carried away by the current of untrue love under the cover of night. Making myself the object of your desire to fit into the scenarios of your imagination. Objectified by herself, wanting to see objectively the bonds between us. This was the trigger for the beginning of sinking and getting lost in distances that could not belong to us. Subjectively, I was drowning in the desire to have you to myself. Objectively, I wished that you were drowning in the desire to have me for yourself and that I could reject you. Before you start being perfect. Before I was sure it will be just me.

But that wasn't to happen. It shouldn't have happened. I shouldn't have given in. And despite the fact that I'm forgetting you now... objectively. I will always remember you as the one who breathed new life into me...subjectively. Even if it wasn't true. Without knowing if I ever meant something more to you...

You know what? I miss you, your beauty and the sharpness of your words. But fuck you. Your promises and manipulations. You were. You are not. You remain in me, I don't deny that, but you are no longer part of my breaths, my looks, my touches. It doesn't belong to you, not like it used to. Just like you, you never really belonged to me, without ever admitting to you that I wished otherwise. I was confused. Tired. I wanted to be wanted at all costs. I was flattered by your attention. But not anymore. You are not. You won't.

Sunflowers have no one to follow when the sun goes down.