Raw Earth Ink
spit, mixed with dirt – muddy words flow
Heart on a Windowsill
There was this moment in time when I went from I really like you to I want you in my life forever. I can remember exactly where I was: standing in front of the heater in the middle of my night, the moon shining through my windows, and tears streaming down my cheeks. What was it that flipped my mind from one thought to the other? I believe it was a moment when I let myself be vulnerable. When I made the conscious decision that this was what I wanted. For myself. For you. The hard part? You’re not mine to have. And you never will be. So away my heart flew to sit on the windowsill of one who can’t return my love. I won’t tell you any of this, not outright. Not unless you confronted me with it, asked me outright, because I refuse to lie. But I suspect that you don’t even know how I am affected by you. Maybe you’ll read this someday. Maybe you never will. I feel pretty safe speaking out my thoughts here on the net. Thousands of miles away from you. Part of me wishes I lived near you so that, if nothing else, I could catch glimpses of Love. Other parts of me thank god I don’t, for such torture I imagine it would be. Still other parts wish I wouldn’t have let my heart fly away to begin with. Admittedly, it was in ignorance I let it go. It had been with hope. But now I know that there’s actually no real hope to be had. The fact is, you aren’t mine. You won’t ever be. I’ve been trying to call my heart back unto me. Logic tells me it’s for the best; to come back, heal, start afresh. Yet my heart, she doesn’t speak the language of logic. She says fly with me or I’ll fly alone. The thing is, I can’t fly. And so, day after day, I look out my window. I’m searching for my heart’s lonely return. Sadly, I’m also watching, even now, across the ocean that separates us, for you to glance my way. Even when I know it can’t happen. And still. And still. There’s that flicker of longing. A spark of desperate pathetic hope.
tara caribou | ©2017
22 Comments on “Heart on a Windowsill”
Raw Earth Ink 
I feel this one so much. Beautifully written.
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Thank you.
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This is really good and heart felt
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Thanks Braeden, that means a lot.
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Very well written. The last line is just brilliant.
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You are too kind. Thank you for the nice compliment.
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The image of the heart, sitting on the windowsill of one it loves, unrequited, is a powerful one. Great writing!
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As always, thank you for your kind words.
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You are most welcome, always 🙂
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To hold or to let go of the heart is a difficult decision. Especially in our world where we only love until we don’t … then move one to try again with someone else. Then there is the pain of heartbreak. Who wants that?? Especially more than once!
Dwight
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Exactly. It’s a hard decision for sure. Thanks for reading and commenting.
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I love the flying heart image… Very well penned 🙂
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Thank you! 😊
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You’re welcome… 🙂
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Wow, this is so perfectly written. I felt like I was standing next to you in front of that heater.
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Thank you. It would have been nice to have company. It’s small moments that make or break it, right? The moon shining in and snow built up against the house, more along the way. Tears running down your cheeks and a half-eaten tangerine sitting on the counter because you just can’t bring yourself to finish a few segments of sweetness when the bitterness of reality is what sits in your gut.
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Exactly. And those are the moments, even when life is complete shit, that make us and make life worth living.
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Couldn’t agree with you more.
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I would be interested in reading why you came back to Alaska.
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Oh! Well, it’s not much of a story to tell, really. Just one of those life-change things… mostly I couldn’t be in the city anymore. I started getting anxiety from all the constant overstimulation. I did write a little about how living here makes me feel. I can see if I left it up or removed it.
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Okay. I did leave it up. I scheduled it to repost in about an hour: it’s called Finding Myself.
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Thanks, I’ll Check it out.
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