Brown-Eyed Man

They hook me in every time. Those beautiful faces look at me, and I stare in awe. How could a creature so pretty even look at me? How dare I stand in their presence.

Lust in love. What it feels like to care about someone as a Borderline. I don’t just care. I fall. I fall hard. Like, my feet slip on a banana peel and I fall directly into their pants type fall. You would think that would make me promiscuous. Alas, I’m not. I’m picky when it comes to slipping on my banana peels. Could that be a euphemism? You’ll never know.

He had beautiful brown eyes. Probably brown because he was full of crap, but hey, who notices these things. At first, I thought he was hideous. I mean man, he was full of himself. He wasn’t even cute, and he didn’t think twice of me. Plus, he was taken. Wasn’t mine to have. Him not being available made him even more appealing in that moment. I had a bad habit of taking things that weren’t mine.

One day I woke up and he was beautiful. Suddenly, he was my world. I woke up and thought of him, I went to sleep and I dreamt of him, and I daydreamed about him during work. It wasn’t that I loved him. It’s that I was obsessed with him. I couldn’t breathe without him near. I couldn’t think without him telling me what to think. I would do anything for a man that I had only known a few months, and that I couldn’t even call mine. I sacrificed free time, money, energy, and sanity for him. It wasn’t even an issue, as he was worth it in the moment.

As you can guess, it ended horribly. Brown eyes needed to be revealed for who he was. He wasn’t a monster like the others before. No, that would flatter him. He was just… meh. He didn’t deserve me, or my time. I deserved more than him, as I deserved a man. He let me down in more ways than one, but it didn’t make it hurt less to reveal his lies.

When I revealed his true form, it all went to shit. I nearly died, as I wanted to so badly. I never realized how much I relied on him to survive. I had forgotten what it was like to be alone. Boy would I quickly be reminded what it would be like. He ended up hating me. Or even worse, he was indifferent. I never stopped caring. To this day, I still think of brown eyes. He haunts my dreams, he jars my reality, and he stirs something in me that I would like to forget. I want to forget that I’m capable of such feeling. It’s not that I never want to feel lost in someone’s eyes again. I just want it to be his eyes that I’m lost in.

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