I never knew heart break could hurt that much. I never knew that feeling. I’ve never experienced it up until now.
I think about you every day and I know you don’t. I’m your last resort, the girl you call at the end of the night and I go every time thinking that maybe just maybe one day you’ll feel the same way too. It’s silly and stupid.
You make my heart break but I love it anyways. I’ve never cried over a boy. I’ve never been that girl who’s confidence gets so shaken over a boy but now all I feel like this lingering sadness that won’t go away.
Get out. Just please fucking get out of my head. I need to stop seeking your validation. I need to stop wanting you. You hurt me so much. I hate you.
I could be everything you need but for some reason you can’t see it and that kills me.
So kindly get out.
To you it’s a simple hello and five minute conversation, to me it’s everything. To you it’s a simple meaningless recognition on the street, to me it keeps me up for hours, replaying ever last detail racking my brain to find some meaning. To you it was a fun drunken kiss a harmless display of passion, to me it was something that
left a mark. It’s not your fault it’s mine for hoping so much. It’s my fault for seeing so much more.
I think all I’ve ever wanted was to be someone’s first choice. Someone’s everything, because I’ll make you my everything if you give me the chance. All I’ve ever wanted is to be your first choice, the one you need, the one you can’t live without, because trust me I don’t think I could live without you. I want to feel that way with someone, to feel so in love that it actually hurts. This concept of love is so elusive to me, a foreign entity almost. I see epic love everyday between people and I’m amazed at the amount of human emotion one single person can have, but more importantly I want to feel that insane amount of emotion for someone. I guess that’s all really anyone wants, to realize that they are capable of receiving that much love as well as giving it.
There is nothing more tragic than unrequited feelings for someone. And the saddest part is, you wait. Somewhere deep down a part of you hopes, dreams, wishes that someday he’ll feel the same way. You imagine how perfect it could be, you agonize why it isn’t. You question yourself, maybe it’s me, but you keep having to tell yourself it never is. It’s him, he failed to see something right there in front of him, something that you so desperately wanted him to see.
I’ve realized that I’m never good at keeping to one thing. I’m a floater. I’ve always been. Maybe this attitude has manifested my entire life. I float through life, never sitting down but never actually flying high enough either. Never enough, but almost. It seems like such a romantic lifestyle, to seamlessly float across time but it’s honestly so lonely. I’ve never felt more alone than I do now. I don’t want to be a floating anymore, I need to find my anchor. I don’t know if my anchor is another person, a career, or myself. But I know I desperately need one. I need my anchor, help me. Floating isn’t fun anymore.
I think we all find ourselves desperately and passionately infatuated with that one person. That one person whose touch you literally crave beyond everyone else. That simple touch that enlightens every nerve on your body. A simple touch of the shoulder or a passionate kiss sets every nerve with a pulsating heat, that lingers even after the moment is gone. The very thought of that person sets you ablaze, with a passion undeniable.
I feel like I’ve been all over the place lately. I need consistency. I need someone to mean it. I need someone to want me all the time. I need consistency. I don’t want you to change the plans. I want you to like me and it kills me not knowing if I should wait for you or just move on. I’m not the girl who waits around for that text, I never wanted to be but I can’t help it with you. I look at my phone all the time. I can’t be that girl. I refuse to be. I’m infatuated by your face, arms, lips, and your warm touch. I’m infatuated by the way you grab my face, the way you make me feel in those moments, the way you made me yours.
Honestly what do you want from me. I don’t get you, you act like you want me and even try, but then fall through the last minute. I don’t get it. Someone please explain to me why you think it’s okay to treat me like this, and more importantly why do I keep letting you. I keep hoping you’ll come but it’s just a meaningless waste of time. And the saddest part is I know better and deserve better but I don’t want better.
You are probably the worst person for me possible. You and I are the worst. We don’t mesh at all. You really don’t want me, just my body and crazily I find myself more and more intrigued.You are someone I’ve never encountered,you are dangerous, wild and reckless, and now I want it more and more. You are confident and straight forward, you don’t care. You don’t want me anymore, and that makes me want you more. It’s vicious cycle. I find myself thinking about what you could do to me. What you wanted to do, what I now want.
“Life is so beautiful that death has fallen in love with it, a jealous, possessive love that grabs at what it can ”
I keep forgetting that life is beautiful, I keep forgetting that my life is beautiful. I need to remember every moment. Every moment I’ve smiled, I’ve cried, and laughed, because death is jealous. Jealous of my life and tries to snatch me when it can. Death loves me, it wants me, it wants possessive love where I am his completely, a dangerous love that will result in nothing but my cold lifeless body.
But I want to live such an alluring life that bleeds beauty, so much beauty that death grovels to rip me from it. And by the time it does, I would have lived such a life that death himself could have never forseen.