*Disclaimer: hello, I know I haven’t posted on this in a LONG time but I’ve been focusing on studies and with the pandemic and being in therapy, my anxiety has been a lot to deal with. In terms of the blog, I had loads of ideas for writing and no confidence to do any of it. Anyway, I’ve been wanting to do a series on here where I post poetry and prose that I’ve written within a couple of minutes based on music I’ve been listening to. This short story is based on the song Repeating Days by R5. I hope it’s not too bad :)*

Repeating Days

You can’t count on constants. I should know that by now. But you came in and out of my life so often that I started to believe you were something I could count on. We’d been playing this game for so long, it seemed it would never end.

The rules were clear. We were close but not enough to hurt each other. Speaking sporadically and breaking contact when it got too much. At least that’s the game I thought we were playing.

I would ignore how you would constantly want to talk about sex and the lingering feeling that I was nothing more than an obejct. Afraid that if I brought it up, I’d go back to being lonely. But other than that, we were honest with each other; nothing was off limits. I could talk to you about things I’ve never talked to my friends before. It felt safe. Yet, there was this yearning for more. As the years and days and hours meshed together, as did the boundaries I’d set in my mind.

Internet-friend, friend, romantic interest. You were all but at the same time, not.

But you shaped me into a more confident, self-appreciative version of myself. A me that knew I was attractive and relished in receiving compliments and affection. A version I haven’t been for a very long time. A version I’m scared I can’t be without you. And now you’ve gone. Completely erased yourself from my life and I don’t really know whether you were real in the first place.

This game we’ve played for so long is now at an end. Neither of us has won, but I feel like the only loser.