Last night i had a dream that somebody loved me. He taught me how to love. But not to love him, to love myself. He was a lonely man, a face he described as 'that only his mother could love'. He was medium height, wore glasses, black frames suited his face, was caring and considerate.
People percieved him as a happy man, always smiling.. but only when people were around.
He was a painter, painted what he felt but never showed a single soul, only me. It was always dark and deep. He worked in a casual retail job to the bills, if he didn't work there he probably would have stayed at home all the time, that's where i met him, he smiled at me.
He's not with me anymore, he took his own life when i was downstairs making him tea. black, one sugar. Found him hanging from the bathroom roof, he had what appeared to be a half smile on his face, just like usual. I kissed the cold, hard cheek of his corpse, a single tear rolled down my face onto his arm, then into his hand. There was writing on his hand, just black ink. "lola, it's all yours. I'm happy, so are you. Dont cry for me, you didn't know me well enough. Love yourself, I love you." I woke up.
I went shopping today, i met Jonathon, he works at the local cafe, he smiled at me. He looks so adorable wearing his black framed glasses...