My Coral Fantasy: Wiktoria Drzewiecka

My Coral Fantasy: Wiktoria Drzewiecka

He said I didn’t know anything about pain. He said I have a picture perfect life with a picture perfect family. But he also said I am too selfish to love and too young to care. But I felt different because it’s him that changed my perspective. I wanted to tell him that my life isn’t picture perfect, and that I have to be selfish to survive this long bloody battle with myself. He never knew that I couldn’t help drowning in his eyes even though they were not blue. they just had a breath taking shade of hazel that you couldn’t resist looking into. And the colour of his skin, not quite coral, but has a warm undertone that compliments his figure. I couldn’t tell him how I felt, it was more complicated than that. It was age against years, but his colour never changed through the fall. Maybe I was being pathetic, but what could I do. He said I’m too selfish to feel, and too young to cry. He wouldn’t know how it is, behind that picture perfect family was a family who suffered a crisis. And then there was just me. I wasn’t so careless as they were about everything. For a 16 year old European girl, I went through the darkest places in life. He was wrong, I’m not too young to feel, I’m just too hurt to show it. Love is simply words and empty lies. I didn’t want to feel what I feel for him. This attraction caused me more pain than happiness and that’s what hurt me most about it, the pain. I knew it wasn’t love because as I’m aware, true love never exists. I always see all those girls getting flowers from their partners and few months later, they get a heartbreak. Those flowers die, just like your love.

He said he could never love somebody like me. I couldn’t possibly let him in. Promise you’ll never let him in, even if he tries. He said I’m heartless, that I should learn how it is to be hurt. He didn’t have to show me, I already knew. I don’t think he ever intended to make me feel this way, he thought he’s changing me to better, but in reality it was more painful than helpful. He said I’m too selfish to know, and too young to notice. I always wondered what did he want me to notice. Be like snow, cold, yet beautiful. That’s what I always thought was right to do. To push people out and not to get attached. But how could I not attach to him. Only he could make me feel like the first daffodil to bloom in spring. He didn’t actually see right through me, and he didn’t try either.

My pain developed into sorrow, and the sorrow into numbness, which eventually turned into anger. Not the kind of anger you usually feel for someone, but it was anger for myself that I let it get to me. I should have stood up for myself. But I didn’t. Nobody knew that’s those memories still haunt me in my dreams. But not only these memories haunt my dreams, his words replay in my head every time I feel alone. I could never love you, and I doubt anyone else would. I didn’t answer back when he said that, I just gave him a bittersweet smile, turned around, and felt fire in my chest burning from those brutal, yet honest words. I felt paralyzed within my soul, and the agony in my heart never left me.

You’re too selfish to know how it is to love. His words play on and on my  head, like a lullaby for a baby. I felt desolated, but the thought of our lips colliding and his arms around me make me feel nonchalant. Sure, I wasn’t quite capable of loving him, nor I was capable to open up my heart, but I know my soul is pure. And although I didn’t love, I felt everything else clearly.

One Response to My Coral Fantasy: Wiktoria Drzewiecka

  • Coral | Sixteen Magazine

    […] Our featured prose writer described her piece in her submission as a spoken poem but we felt that it fitted much more nicely into our prose section. My Coral Fantasy by Wiktoria Drzewiecka is a piece of writing that speaks from a very personal and raw place. The narrator is looking back on a failed relationship and gives the reader some good, concrete nature images to latch onto. Everyone has been here and we hope the best is to come for the narrator. You can read it here >> […]

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