written words

- It was what you wrote...

Her words crossed her heart like two hundred and thirty seven pins. Heart beat. Bloody geysers. Then the flood. Diving in a red that fades to find himself surrounded by all those things he thought he knew. He did not. He did now.

All those written words arose from within. Some of them from his heart. Some of them not. He had been using himself to fight his fear. His fear for love. The one he once found. The only one which would never go away. Forever seems always too long. It is not. But it does not come alone. Splashed with insecurities. He finally understood the wrinkles in his stomach. It was her. Just her. Written words hurt. They do because of their shade. Some are getaways. Get away from those. Some are not. Those are the ones. Smiling heart.

Only then he compelled himself to breath before writing. Inhale. Exhale. He could not take it anymore.

- I am sorry, and I am afraid...

Writing not as a getaway. Writing as a way to a source eight minutes and thirty one seconds away. Time machines and randomness. He did not need his written words anymore to justify himself. He was happy. Ready to be weak. And to melt.