updown

No matter how much I’d like to think I’ve over you, I’m not. Not even close. I see you and my heart stops and you give me this look and it’s as if we both know this separation isn’t right, yet we’re too proud to do anything about it. There’s no one quite like you. I was always giggling. Theres this safe feeling I get when I’m with you, like you’re the other half of my brain and I’m protected. I’m just waiting, for the day when you wake up and realize how badly you fucked up and how much I don’t even care. All I want is to be back in your hot tub in your arms looking at the stars talking about anything and everything. The string of conversations were infinite. I desire you in a strange way. The more people I meet, the more meaningless sex I have. I realize that what I did have in you, was everything I want and need in a boy. It was great. I just hope you grow up, take a step back and realize what you’ve turned into and what you could be with me by your side. Your partner in crime.

It’s not about sex. It’s those people you can sit in the shower with, thumbing the cracks in the tile, talking about nothing except half-remembered, whiskey soaked memories. The people you smoked cigarettes with until smoke billowed under the lights, heavy with talk, the morning’s dust sneaking through the blinds. The people you stood in the middle of a field with, forgetting you were naked, staring at nothing and forgetting to breathe. And now you’re sitting next to them, your eyes wild with hurt and you can’t ever imagine that chair being empty and the cold wind they’d no longer be shielding you from. We have a tendency to make everything that’s strange into a stranger, scared when someone knows our blueprints so well, when they know about the loose screws, the creaky stair, the cracked foundation. There’s a cold wind coming, I hope the chair’s not empty.

There is so much capacity in my body for love. I love too much. That’s why I’m reluctant to open my heart. Once I do, there’s no turning back and I love whole heartedly. I’m beginning to let the light shine through more and more lately and I’ve been giving more love and receiving more. It’s the realization that what you put out into the universe will somehow be returned to you.

I have to do it. It’s time to stand on my own. Fuck everyone’s fake bullshit. I will never measure up or be good enough. People are liars. Spare me the hysterics, it’s all a dramatic lie in your story.