The Life in Rhymes of an Angsty Teenager

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I knew I shouldn’t have peered into your eyes, admiring my crystal clear reflection staring back at me. Those perfectly round azure pools of water are irresistible, with a temperature so warm and inviting. I should know better by now that I drown in that divine aquamarine every time. I felt myself slowly sinking down into salty tears that have not yet been wept. And I journeyed below into the pupil-like dark depths. Before I could realize I was running out of breath, you took it away from me like polished stones wave-swept. You left my heart aching to resurface, so I could wash up on the sandy shore. Only to succumb to temptation, and be consumed by the blue once more.

The definition for the word “tide” is as follows: “The periodic rise and fall of the waters of the ocean, produced by the attraction of the moon and sun.” Maybe it took us so long to meet because we were like the moon and the sun: polar opposites. Yet we were aware of one another’s presence, but for some reason we would just miss each other almost every day; dodging each other’s daily rotation. I suffered a shadowing of your existence for almost seventeen years, unaware at the time that I could suffer from such a thing. I look back on it now and like to think about it as if I was temporarily blinded, shielded by my own eclipse, a total darkness that eventually lifted due to your contrasting brightness. It wasn’t until we met, when I was a friend of your best friend and you were dating my close friend at the time, that our paths finally crossed and I began to learn what love truly felt like. You taught me the wrongness in the deprivation I had experienced since the day I decided I would begin to look for love, and the irony of it all is that I had stopped looking for love when I met you.

Our relationship was built on grounds that could be linked back to the most basic of bricks and mortar: coincidence and chance. It was a coincidence that we had even met in the first place, that I had slowly fallen in love with you; and it was by chance that you felt the same and we eventually found ourselves together. But just like the receding shoreline of the beach we frequented in our time, with every wave of infatuation I had for you growing stronger, I had also lost a friend in the process. I happily accepted that loss knowing that I had gained another best friend and a lover as well. You and I were proof that best friends turned soul mates was a very plausible situation, much to our mutual friends’ exultation at the time, though I’m not so sure that is the case anymore.

I remember when we would spend hours upon hours and day after day venturing outdoors. Although I had met you in the height of the winter months, as soon as heavy snow turned into frost and frost melted to dew, we would find ourselves gallivanting through the park, running and enjoying the chase. Innocent teasing quickly transformed into wrestling matches, harmless and all in fun despite the looks of disapproval it brought upon us. Before we knew it we left our mark on the world, walking hand in hand along summery beaches, leaving our footprints in the sand, matching in gate.

We were falling at the same pace, but naively caught up in the romance of it all and to our detriment; we did not seem to realize that over time footprints dissolve. We also discovered that the principal of gravity is a difficult one to learn, that eventually it makes you fall faster; bringing you closer to the inevitable bottom you may be unaware even exists. Feelings that once lifted us towards the heavens began to disappear, slowly enough to be almost undetectable. The universe in all its mischievous glory allowed us to soar into the atmosphere, too high; turning our hearts into stone-cold, volatile comets fated to become burning meteors finding their way back to the unforgiving earth.

When we started, you would sheepishly voice your opinion of my poetry. You began with reading my high-spirited rhymes, you would tell me you admired the optimistic outlook I had on life. But as time passed, your eyes would fall upon words that represented the gradual loss of the light I had in me, and it filled you with sorrow. You began to boldly state your uproar at the idea of my mistreatment. At this point, I think I loved you – more than I previously had. I had begun my childlike barrel roll down park hills, descending to what I thought would be my satisfying final destination; you waiting patiently at the bottom for my arrival.

I never thought I would be the source of your mistreatment one day, taking day-by-day for granted and looking too much into the future. This curiosity led to our untimely downfall, worry becoming the culprit of ruin. But that’s what happens when you hold your breath and dally too long underwater. Your heart begins to palpitate, beating unnaturally fast, turning metaphorical heartache into a reality. All you’d ever hoped was for the day to come when you recognized the words I wrote to be about you. And to this day in my artistry, that’s all I seem to do.

Tide: Current, tendency, or drift, as of events and ideas; any extreme or critical period or condition.

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