Your Loving, Mistake

Mexico City, January 1st, 2018.

I'm a close friend of yours, yet you dare to call me a mistake. A well-hidden secret that God and your family would dishonor should it be revealed. You don't give it much importance, because deep down you know that it won't be relevant as long as you end sleeping alone at night. Your biggest fears feed me, and I know you are brave enough to go past the fright of ghosts and wood floors' crawling-in sounds. You are not scared of the darkness, but rather scared of never having someone to share said darkness with; your mind follows me, that glorious idea of hugging the warmth of dangerous arms no heavenly believer would see as pure. I haunt you when I intend to marvel you with true love, yet you hide me, as I become a threat to your own self-confidence towards ending this sad period of solitude. Yet, I am faithful, so I will wait, wondering around the streets of your neighbourhood until some hopeful day, I won't be regarded as an enemy anymore.

Remaining faithful to you,

Your Loving,

Mistake