Her Innocence, My Undoing

Love doesn’t always need words. Sometimes, it lingers in the spaces between. Here is a short story of such love 💖

I had managed to fall in love with an innocent.

She laughed without a care, clinging to me as if I were her only comfort. Her eyes twinkled when we spoke. Mine did too, perhaps. I was in love, after all.

My heart raced each time she was near. I hoped for a little more. Beneath the smile, I yearned for something more. I never said anything, though. It was a secret for me to keep.

She was innocent, unaware of how much I loved her and how her presence and existence improved mine. Each time her arms wrapped around me, my heart thudded in response. I wanted to reach out, too. But I couldn’t. Not yet. Not when I had so much on my shoulders.

Some days, it was easier to pretend. Play the game I had played for years. But sometimes, when she looked at me, smiling and happy, the words barely managed to stay behind my lips. I wanted to say them. I couldn’t.

Every song we listened to was about her. It was the unspoken truth. Maybe she knew. Perhaps she didn’t. Either way, we never talked about it.

It was innocent. Her clinginess. Her touches. Her words. She found comfort in my presence. Safety, probably, when she took my hand in hers. She offered the same to me. But to me, it will always mean something more. Something deeper.

She mended something in me with every touch and every word, made me fall a little more. It wasn’t her intention, but it was all my undoing. It was all innocent, yet destructive. Beautiful, yet painful. And I wanted more. So much more of it. Forever.

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