I want to sleep with you.
And it’s not that I want to have sex with you.
I just want you to be the last thing I see at night
And the first thing I see in the morning.
March 2011
February 2011
that feeling when you miss someone because they remind you of a time when everything was peaceful and happy
okay, making up my own one.
a lot of those things on that picture was sosososo adorable and gave me happy butterflies so i’m going to write one myself!! (and procrastinating, obv)
so i saw this boy at a party last night and he was really cute and i wondered if he was into the quirky and dorky kinda girl who laughs too much and likes to throw weak punches, and liked reading books on a friday night as much as he liked being drunk here with a bunch of friends and strangers, and if he would tell me random facts about himself and what he likes to do, and if he likes to run around holding hands, and if he will look me in the eye and just smile and if he’ll be able to tell when i’m getting upset before i even make eye contact with him, and if he’ll squeeze my hand if he feels the slightest motion that i’m fading away, and if he will always run after me and run with me, and if we could go to playgrounds and push each other on swings and have late night conversations until we see the sunrise and then we’ll kiss and smile and laugh between all those kisses and fall asleep anywhere because it wouldn’t matter where we were as long as we had each other, and we would get breakfast while we looked like a mess and we’ll watch television but talk about what really matters to us, and he won’t mind that i’m indecisive and contradicting and confusing, and he’ll understand that i’m just an average girl with a mended heart who’s just trying to find some love and that i’m frightened but he’d never let me go otherwise, and we’ll make food for each other and go on unusual adventures, and at the end of the night we will look at the stars and listen to each other’s heartbeats and think about the first time we fell in love.
when i was a little kid, everything used to made me cry.
and i’d hate myself for it and ask myself why i couldn’t be like everybody else. why i couldn’t be like other kids who were happy and able to be so carefree. and when i was a teenager and certain things made me cry, i wondered why i couldn’t be strong enough. i wondered why instead of fixing things, i decided to cry, cry, and cry. and then i stopped crying for the longest time. and i forgot what it felt like to shed a tear, for that tear to stain on my face, and for tears to keep dropping as they made their imprints on my clothes. and i had realized that i was weaker than ever.
and then i remembered again. i remembered what it felt like. i remember i cried so much because it made me who i am. i had realized today that i like to cry..because it makes me feel alive. it reminds me that i can still feel. it brings me back to a time when i loved while i was scared and anxious and overprotective.
it’s ironic, when i came to college, i thought all of these feelings would be amplified. but instead, i had lost them all. i had lost all feelings.
“when i wake up and i don’t want to live, i think of you. you give me a reason to live. more so than my family. you are more important to me. i love you.”
“no. i don’t. i don’t give you a reason to live.”
“why are you always like that?”
“like what?”
“denying my love. you always tell me you love me but when it comes to the important things, you never believe me. you won’t accept that i care about you”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“whatever.”
sorry.
“you know. one day i’m going to prove to you that i love you more than you love me. and maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but i will. i love you so much, you don’t even know. i know i’m shitty and i have a hard time being this person you think i can be, but you make me who i am and you make me want to be a better person. i wake up and think of you. you give me a reason to live.”
we were in wal mart, and i turned away because i started getting upset and you grabbed me and turned me around. you held me by the shoulders so i was unable to move. and you told me those words. you told me those words while three of your friends were around us.
blahblahblahblah i miss you. things were always easier with you despite how difficult our relationship was. you were an asshole but i knew you loved me. and i know you still do. i just can’t deal with it anymore. and you haven’t chased me this time, because you know i’d find a way to leave you again. don’t worry, i understand. i hate dealing with myself too. well maybe, maybe this time, i’ll go back to you.
but you never let go of me. you always insisted on prying through my brain to know exactly who i was and why. i need people like you in my life again.
“i’m sorry. i wish i could explain to you why i can’t do any of this”
“then explain to me. i’m here.”
“i can’t. it’s too difficult. i’m sorry. i’m too fucked up for this. and i don’t mean drunk. i mean i’m too fucked up. and you shouldn’t deal with me. it’ll be easier for you.”
one day i will learn to be close to people. one day i will stop pushing away people that i want to let myself care about. one day i will learn to love without question. one day i will stop all these excuses. one day this will all be different and one day i will look back and think, “how silly. all you had to do was just love, trust, and let go of all the anxiety. that’s all you needed all along”
but everything always seems easier in retrospect.
"i wish i could be you! you are such a partier and you get such good grades"
there’s more to life than the party image and good grades. there is so much more to me. and there is also so much emptiness. there are holes inside of me and i will never be able to escape all this void. you don’t want to be me. you can have my gpa and you can have my drunkenness. i will trade you for the happiness of the world.
“i remember that one time nick drove up to see shepleigh but shepleigh and i were going to visit you two so he left and i was trying to catch up to him and i was driving at 100 and there were those windy bump roads and he texts me and he’s like “you know a tire could pop off if you drive that fast over those bumps” and i was like “shut up” and then i never caught up to him because i took the wrong route..HOW THE FUCK DID THAT HAPPEN”
“lmao i was there?!”
“or maybe you weren’t? let me think, anyway the teen center, trying to two step…worst mistake of my life”
“OMG WHAT YOU DID THAT?
“no..i did in the bathroom with shepleigh and we failed LMAO”
“hold on, i’m channeling my deepest memories that i blocked out”
“okay, contact me in a few years”
“UM WERE YOU THERE WHEN ______ VAGINA WAS EXPOSED”
^
- "lmao i remember i used to drive at like 55 in town in espanola.."
- "you need medical attention"
