A Short Story: Life In A Museum.

When a writer loves you, you live forever.

Temporary feelings putting into words that will never die.

A short story about eternity and moments that have passed.

So do you want to live forever as I write the words from my mind?

I had to question myself.

I had to let doubt enter my mind as if I was unsure of everything. When I apologized I wanted to make sure it was for you and not me. I wanted to make sure it was because you deserved my remorse and not because I knew it was the right thing to do. I’ll be honest. I’ll tell truths that some of you might already know. As a man sometimes we ask for a second chance simply because we don’t want to see you with someone else. We hold on to things we don’t really want selfishly. I said “simply” but human existence and emotions are complex things.

So before I tried to enter the atmosphere of what I wanted. I had to fix the ozone layer of what I needed.

I take that back cause what I wanted was simple.

I wanted you.

The all of you that I would discover in bits and pieces over time.

I had to be sure of why I wanted you. Why did this feel so important?

It couldn’t be for selfish reasons. I couldn’t ask you for more if in my heart I didn’t want it all.

I sat with these thoughts for a few months. And getting you off my mind wasn’t an option.

When it came to you I had to question myself. What did I miss? What did I really want to know about you? Am I wasting both our time?




1. 1.
the indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole.

Time. I want to do something special and create something beautiful so time is something I don’t have a lot of.

I broke my self down to be sure that if I was in your life it would only be to build you up. To make a foundation between us that went beyond the hammer of my ego. Even if you may have already put a nail in my coffin. Projects around the house of self are always the hardest. But if done correctly they make for a beautiful home.

I questioned myself with the same questions you probably had in your head about me. I’m my own worst critic. So allow me to doubt me.

I saw my intentions with you were pure. Chapters of your life could include me and I wanted to save the page.

I’m no angel.

I may not even be the good guy in your story.

I’m not entitled to second chances that may feel like fourth tries to you. Or remorse that will let me close to you because that wasn’t my focus. No matter the outcome all of this will remain true. The world owes me nothing and I want to be apart of your world. So you owe me nothing.

I knew when I said I wanted to get to know you I meant that in a way I’ve never said it to anyone else before. The intent behind it was different. I am ready to be something greater than me with someone I adore. But I also knew that might not matter.

That I had to be sincere to Blanca when I said. ” I know it might not change the outcome, but I care about the girl. I just want her happy”

I knew when I said I wanted to get to know you. The outcome was one of two. There is no way it would be instant. Either you would give me the ink of your life one page at a time or you would get a lock and leave me no key like a diary. Either choice I had to be alright with.

Cause too often we arrive too late and fall short then blame it on timing. I only blame myself, I can only fix myself, I can only be accountable for my actions or lack there of. And since I’ve lost you I’ve looked at a lot of clocks. Times still moves the same. I’m just not sharing the hours with you because I didn’t know how to communicate.

How pretty I write these words about you in which I don’t say your name.

Sometimes chances of love are like stars in the night sky. You may be wishing upon something that is already dead.

But I choose to think about the times that we were together and I know we both felt so alive.

There’s two sides to every coin.

Heads or tails

Logic or heart

Sometimes chances of love are like stars in the night sky. When you are gazing with the right person there are infinite possibilities of ways to fall in love.

I’m trying to figure out your coping mechanism like my curiosity is a telescope to your soul.

When your mind can’t rest I want to stay up late and talk to you about everything. After your long days push your eyelids down and tell you that I care more about you than any girl in the world. And if even for only a few seconds let you be at peace with everything around you.

I don’t want to be reason you don’t believe in love.

I’m probably giving myself too much credit.

I could’ve easily been a brief chapter in your history that one day may be nothing more than a figment of your imagination.

Just an exhibit in your art museum.

In the end I might just be another boy who who came to grips with the fact too late that he was in the presence of a queen. So now he just holds on to old chairs that look like thrones.

In my head I don’t know if I think about how it use to be or what it could’ve been more? But I do know I’ll never allow myself to regret meeting you. Details like a war story I tell myself everyday I know the pieces of you I miss.

Your lovely tidbits that lives on in over extended haikus. Take lovely photos of you like pictures now come in updated versions of bibles.

I’m just good with words but my actions are simple. I just want to talk to you.

Human emotions and existence. Even the incredibly simple is complex.

I want to swim in your fountain of youth as you moan sweet truths. Tell me about the fantasies of your lust. As I put you in the position to be the one I trust.

And over the years as smiles add lines to the wrinkle of time on your face. I want to say I’m glad I realized you are everything I need. Because through all this time to have it any other way would’ve been my biggest mistake.

I’ve always taken roads less traveled and maybe one day they’ll lead me back to you. And even if our paths never again cross the journey will be beautiful

All apologies must come with self reflection and new forms of honesty that didn’t previously exist.

For my role in the story of us I didn’t do my part to truly deserve you then. That means I forfeited my right to say I need you now.

I can’t tell you how to feel or that you should separate the then from now. I’m writing bigger pictures and all everyone is concerned about is sound. I just don’t want pain in your heart. I’ll give you the museum, paint brush and canvas. All you have to do is say what we have could be art.

This was a short story, but when it comes to you I want to read more.

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