Dust Eater
Well, it was nice while it lasted. At least I realize that now.
I used to wish that you would just leave and now look at me…
It was inevitable. You’ll be gone soon enough too—and I’ll be so terribly confused and needy and lonely all over again.
You’re getting one step closer to whatever it is you’re seeking in the world, and I’m just staying here. Now that I think about it, we never did get as close as I had imagined: you were too much for me but became just right, yet that sweet spot was only a few short moments of fondness that’ll haunt me when you’re gone—when you’ll come to embody my past. We’ll never be as close as we were in those moments, even if we didn’t realize it back then.
Ugh, all this whiplash makes me sick—what am I going to do?
What will become of me?
Will I one day finally be able to follow in your footsteps, closer to what I’m seeking, or will I forever be left in everyone’s dust?
This story is part of a collection of poems, short stories and introspective diary entries, called “Grimoire of a Weirdo”.