9. But mercy's eyes are blue; when he places them in front of you.

It was not fair.
-life's not fair.
-But I adore you.
-I'm not going anywhere.
-But the fact is you really are.
-I will always be here.
-I adore you, but that's a bunch of crap.
-Yes, yes it is. But I want to belive it.
Do you?
-I guess. I guess I don't have a choice.

I hated not having a choice.
I hated that he made me love him.
I hated that he made me hate him.
I loved being numb.
I liked not having him in my life.

But I loved being his.
And how was I going to go back to like
when I had have love?
It was to put grayscale to my life.
All the colors would fade away as I pressed the ”approve” button.
Well, I did'nt approve.
I rushed back home.
I left him talking to the ducks.
They gave him the sypathetic look I had taught them all afternoon.
I was looking for something to make it stop.
As I did not know exactly what I was looking for, I searched everywhere.
I looked under my pillows.
Only hairs and dried tears.
Under my bed.
Only dust-mice and the scent of him.
In my underwear-drawer.
Only irregular socks.
I pushed, crawled, pulled and lifted everything in that room.
As I opened the closet a box fell on my head.
Auch. That hurt. And it would leave a mark.
A big mark.
I did not think of that at the moment.
The box had opened and my room was full of postcards.
I was going to send them to him.

I picked them all up, gently, like they were very old, very dear friends.
I adored them.
It would not be a secret anymore.