i swear he has a consistent goal of keeping a smile on my face. it kills him to see me down, even if it’s due, not to sadness, but tiredness or a desire for relaxation. perhaps, it was just him. the smiles were all due to his personality—& open, nonjudgemental, comforting nature.
i have suddenly recognized his efforts. with everything he’s been through, he has made me a top priority. i never had the clarity of mind to even wink, let alone notice he is giving me all that he’s got… mentally, physically, psychologically, he attempts in nearly every moment he’s around me. i swear he reads my mind. mindful of my deepest thoughts, my darkest secrets, he rarely uses them against me.
& to this, i am filled with fear and skepticism. i never knew how much control i have over the situation. once i realize this control, i usually use it to my advantage; but, this time, i surrendered it to him in exchange for freedom, his freedom.
if this isn’t love, i don’t know what is.
this is getting old & i’m honestly not gaining much from it. i mean, what is the point? let’s say i do find some questionable evidence, the only thing that’s going to result from it is an argument, lost time being upset with one another, high levels of stress, all to make up again in a few hours. i have to accept what is out of my control, frightening. i finally trust him, yet i am still possessive, demanding… i have to allow him a certain degree of control as well. it’s only fair, still scary. now, i do it out of boredom. before, i though i would expose him. as i spend more & more time with him, i realize he is the same person i once knew; a bit more attractive, much more popular, but the same. it’s not like i will ever stop loving him or wanting him around so i suppose i will just have to simply enjoy the ride.
i had to just take a second. sometimes, i admit, i do have a hard time distinguishing what is real & what is all in my head. but, i swear, at about 5 a.m. you rolled over; your right hand over my eyes, searching for my face. i can’t remember if you softly kissed me on my cheek first or whispered, “i love you.” i never thought i would experience that with you. you scatter at sunrise so when i wake up at noon, it all seems a blur. i’m starting to believe this is real.
nothing at all; & you see absolutely nothing wrong with it. who knew a cry out for help could be such an annoyance. i am but a nuisance to you. i loved you & you can’t pretend that you played no part in my self-destruction. & now i am numb. i sit here & smile in all my misery because i prayed there will be a day that i was so empty nothing phased me. i could not bare the pain anymore. i would’ve had to end it. & now i feel nothing at all, not a thing at all; & you see nothing wrong with it. i feel so different now. the world does not look the same. i don’t give a fuck about what anyone thinks. i feel reckless, driving 80 down charleston boulevard. music on 28. all these years, in heartbreak, in heartache… hoping, hoping, hoping, fucking wishing you would love me. hoping & wishing you would prize me, as a person, as a lover, at least as a friend. nothing. how can i be angry at you when you have endured so much pain. when i know your pain so well my anger must sit in silence. again & again i tried to punish you when all i would ever do is punish myself because i couldn’t imagine a day without you. not one day. & now i often find myself wishing i never knew you. six years i felt like i wasn’t good enough. six fucking years i was there for you. gave you everything, every ounce of me. yet, it wasn’t enough. you wanted to have your cake and eat it too. admit it. how i often forget you are a man. a man with needs. a man who deserves the attention of other women. you attempted to april fools me & i felt nothing, nothing at all; & you will remain blind to it. fuck jessica, fuck nikki, fuck lexi, fuck whomever you want to fuck, but you will never have that piece of me again. ten times maybe, ha. all i can do is fucking laugh. when you touch me now i feel disgusting. i feel nothing. nothing at all. i forget to even hug you sometimes. a friend. i tried to be a friend & you still treat me the same. just as i thought. so now, here i am numb. i don’t cut anymore. i don’t feel pain. suicide is a joke. i will live & watch how miserable everyone is with their feelings because i am free of emotion. i will never love again & i don’t care. i will be alone. i don’t care. i step outside & the world looks beautiful to me. the silence soothes me because i hate to hear people’s voices sometimes. i hate dealing with people. i barely bother to even be social because i’m too numb to fucking care about their lives. where were you when i felt pain? nowhere. i struggled for years with severe depression & no one ever took a second look. everyone wrote it off as a “phase”; & breakdown, after breakdown, i began to break down my thoughts and realize i don’t give a fuck about these people. i don’t give a fuck about this town. yet, here i am. what will i do to surprise myself? the possibilities are infinite when you don’t feel a thing. what is fear, but a setback? so now i feel nothing, nothing at all; & i see absolutely nothing wrong with it.
thank you.
i used to be easily amused, but now i find myself very much underwhelmed by the world, in general. i don’t seem to possess the motivation or drive i once had. i barely have a desire to get out of bed in the afternoon. i often find myself coming to the conclusion of caring less and less for people. i have yet to come across anyone that has similar social standards as i. silly, i once thought i did not approve of myself. nonacceptance by your peers & the wider community tends to do that to you. for a long while, i had no goals or aspirations of any sort. i accomplished much of what i set forth on life as a child, with failures in the aspects i valued most. i gave up on seeking inspiration out of the comforts of men that never loved me in the right way. perhaps, a quarter life crisis, severe depression, & an underactive thyroid, were at the root of my destruction as well.
i guess i just sort of miss the attention. not just from him, but in general—& not just from anyone. if that makes any sort of sense. i was just so proud of myself for taking a risk & approaching someone, in person. it’s not too often that i come across someone i recognize as attractive, especially to the point that i gain the courage to speak to them, in pre-regret that we may never cross paths again. i mean, i guess it wan’t too much of a long shot since he had already made small talk with me at the bar… & we danced (: yet, that doesn’t lessen my attempts. i felt so similar to him for some reason. i knew he may have been trying to figure out the right timing, the correct approach in between other women coming on to him. i would look in his general direction & we made eye contact, every time. finally, when my friends said they were ready to go, i boldly waled right up to him & went for it. i was so unprepared, but it was all just so thrilling. i can’t even remember half of what was said. all i knew was i had his number & that was the first step. now that i look back, i wonder if it would’ve been more appropriate if i were to text him immediately & put the rest in his hands instead of trying to completely control the situation. that way i would at least know he may have been equally as interested. funny thing is, the next evening it took me about half and hour to figure out the first thing to say. should i call? no, too personal. i should just text & keep it casual, for now. i tend to have this growing issue with saying too much—which is probably why this only lasted a few days, but we’re not quite there yet. i’m so out of touch. i haven’t dated since high school & teenage “love” hardly counts. not to mention, i have never been too spectacular at flirting. but, i figured i would give it a go. the conversation started off pretty dry, especially when i found out he had a two-year-old son. after that, i quickly (and shallowly) wrote him off. he was still on my mind. a week later Ruc somehow persuaded me to text him again late one night & we hit it off. he was such an interesting guy with a broken soul i could see right through. part of me wanted to save him, and part of me wanted to run. he was a challenge… so mysterious. & he never fully gave in, but did just enough to not discourage me. i wish we would’ve hung out again. i gave him a raincheck, even though i knew he hated rainchecks. i was hoping he would just be patient with me. i feel as if i’m getting so old & i just desperately want a man to finally take me seriously. i’m exhausted from guys only seeing one dimension of me. it seems as if they label me as the fun girl, “down to have a good time”. that’s not me anymore; i’m not quite sure it ever was. i just knew that’s what men were interested in, but now i’m just trying to figure out a better way. i want to get to know someone, inside & out. i want to be the best friend they never had & then consider the next step. if there was a next step to take. if not, i would still have a friend, either way. i suppose it doesn’t help that i’m looking for someone as good as him or better since i fucked these past six years up so much. once you have it good, you never want to downgrade. life is too short to settle for less so i will remain patient for the next man i’m attracted to. all i know is i can’t stop trying. i fear what will become of me once i stop trying again.
i miss you. i know i have a weird, quite self-destructive way of conveying it. but, this much is true. i fantasize about you every morning, lying here next to me.
