Four years ago was a single red rose a guy kept between the pages of his journal. A quiet surprise turned into a cheesy movie marathon, covered in blankets and pillows.
Three years ago were tears on his phone screen. Unreturned phone calls and texts. And quiet whimpers of regrets.
Two years ago was a paper flower and childish letter cut-outs. A quiet dance with arms wrapped and calm breaths.
A year ago was a cold bed; an empty one. A quiet night of Maroon 5 playlists while sippin’ beer one bottle after another. His eyes so dry, no signs of pain or longing. And hands so warm, not needy of touch. A year ago was a guy who felt nothing.
Now is a guy who questions, why is such day a big deal? What is it for him? Does it still even matter? He wonders.. What will silence mean this time? Happiness? Pain? Nothingness? Or maybe he turned out to be a guy who just doesn’t care.
…or does he?
Uh, happy fucking Valentine’s!