But that’s all about to change.
Sometimes I wonder if she thinks of me as often as I think of her. I wonder if she sees me in the dark corners of her room. If she feels my eyes watching her while she sleeps. I want to be the person in her favorite dreams, who she thinks of while she’s touching herself with those pretty nails. I want her to crave my presence and attention as much as I crave hers.
My need for her is insatiable. It’s pathetic, the way I’ve missed her over these last few years. However, it was worth it to get here. I needed time, not just to get to this place in my career, but to give her a chance to get started on her healing process,even tomiss meafter that night. I had to know if she was scared of me coming back or if she’d put herself in situations I’d once threatened her over.
And what did she do?
I almost laugh to myself.
What she did was spectacular, so spectacular that I think shedidmiss me. Throwing herself at countless groupies, those cute little self-defense classes, fighting a so-called mafia boss last New Year’s Eve…
It’s all so adorable.
Even so, I hate myself for not being there to protect her.
Had something happened to her that night, I don’t know that I would still be here. I can’t fail her, not after everything she and I have been through. Not after…
Young Decay.
Young Decay.
I won’t fail her this time. I’m not disappearing.
My veins would bleed her favorite color should she one day ask me to split them open.
BonniefuckingMiller.
I sigh and stretch my neck as I think of last night, watching her from the closet in her hotel room, and then from the end of her bed. God, watching her sleep is my serenity. My salvation. The rise and fall of her chest, the little noises she makes when she’s dreaming, how she curls against her pillow and tucks the blankets around her bare body as if spinning her own cocoon…
I’ve missed her so much that it hurts.
Yet, even as beautiful as all that is,nothingcompares to the stunning way her bold eyes glisten with sadness when she’s all alone, thinking no one else can see her as she silently breaks… The shimmer reminds me of the night sky dancing on her pupils, illuminating all the empty parts of her she quietly begs to fill. Each time I’ve seen it, it’s nearly killed me. I’ve often speculatedif I once made it worse, or if I was ever a factor in the moments that she took one more shot, one more hit.
I wonder if she would have been better off without me.
Though, I know that invasive little voice is wrong.
Isee her.
I’vealwaysseen her.
I’m the only person who truly sees her.
Everyone else—all the groupies who have climbed into her bed after shows who she leaves behind with a tedious kiss after—doesn’t see her. They don’t know who she is apart from the band.
I do.
I know her.
She’s an uncontrollable wildfire swallowing everything she touches and giving way to a rebirth unmatched by anything else.
No one else understands that.
No one notices all of her like I do.
Young Decay.
Young Decay.
