Sweet Syrup in My Chest
I was asked if I was jealous because you spent so much time with her and gave all your attention to her.
I wouldn’t say jealous is the word to describe what I felt. I felt hurt dripping in my chest, slow and constant, like syrup sliding from pancakes.
I felt as though I was left alone in the cold night, to fight on my own.
I felt as though I became a ghost, haunting the lives of those around me. When I walked into a room, I felt as though I was watching someone else go through the motions — like an actor on stage, pretending to be happy, pretending to be perfect, pretending to be whole.
I felt as though I was falling through a black hole with no escape. But then — suddenly — light.
You became my light. The most unexpected person to bring the brightness I so desperately needed, the warmth I so desperately craved.
You unexpectedly made me feel the happiest I have ever been — like sweet syrup dripping in my chest, bringing warmth back into a place I thought would turn cold.