There was something about the way he laughed. He laughed so genuinely, like he really found what ever it was amusing. Not the kind of laugh you force out of politeness but a laugh that puts you at ease and makes you want to laugh right along with him. And when he laughed you could see it all over his face, not just his smile. He would tilt his chin down into himself just the slightest bit, reminding me of how a little child would laugh. Maybe this is a part of him that he kept from when he was younger, that he refused to change about himself. Not that anyone would want to change it.
I’m sitting here writing about his laugh and I find myself trying to suppress a smile. I don’t know why. Something so pure and good is making me feel bitter. I do know why. I resent him for what he did. Especially because he never felt sorry about it, or he never expressed it if he did. I’ve tried to bring myself to hate him several times over the last couple of years and I fail every time. I just can’t bring myself to it. So it really hurts when all I can do is miss him and all he does is forget we existed. Some hurt heals with time, so my mom and everyone else says. But some hurt just never goes away. This isn’t the type of hurt where it will only be healed if we’re together again. I know that won’t happen. I know he won’t do it. I just want to know that he remembers everything I’ll never forget and thinks about me at least once for the thousand times I think about him. That’s all I need. And probably all I’ll never get.
You never see me
You can only feel me
I’m empty, nothingness
I’m craving, hopelessness
Take me along for your ride
Leave me behind tonight
Love me for what I’m not
Hate me for what is innate
Ice can burn like flames
Fire can change our phase
Tides go high and low
But I am no shore
(first off let’s make this clear: I have a wonderful family that loves me and I love them, God loved me so much that He blessed me with them. I am talking about stranger love not the love I already know and am blessed to have.)
Stranger Love. When you start off as strangers but end up falling in love. It seems so confusing when you think about it like that. Someone that you just meet. You didn’t have to meet them but fate wanted you to. It was destined. It seems so corny to think of it that way but that’s how it happens. You don’t just meet your soul mate by coincidence, it was MEANT to be. God had it written in his book all along.
Maybe it just takes some longer to meet them than it does for others. Maybe I’m still really young and I need to give it a rest and stop complaining like I’m a 50 year old spinster. Maybe I’m just desperate for a stranger to realize what I’m all about and fall in love with it, for it to be recognized by someone completely new. Maybe I need to be touched again and feel wanted, to be told I’m beautiful and better than the girl of his dreams. Maybe I miss him, or just the idea of him being mine.
Maybe I’m just desperate.
I never realized until today why I had a tiny, middle-school crush on this guy that lives on the second floor of my apartments.
Well today, when he sat next to me on the bus, I realized why I had this little school girl crush on him. He is almost a spitting image of my ex. Not in the face much but his body type is almost exact to the T. (I’ve heard this “T” saying a lot and I figured it fit in here, maybe? I hope, anyway.)
We didn’t talk. I’m not too upset. He doesn’t seem like my type at all, he parties and drinks and maybe even smokes weed and I do this… and go jogging just to be near the grass and wildflowers, because I really really hate jogging but that is besides the point.
My unconscious said “Hey, this guy reminds her of her ex boyfriend, maybe she will like him too.” No. I don’t like him anymore. I don’t want to date the same guy over and over.
Maybe I am just really really desperate because I haven’t dated anyone in over 3 years. You know what? It gets lonely. It really does.
I don’t need another person to make me feel whole or alive. I just want another person to enjoy this life with.
I’m only 20. I guess it’ll happen eventually. But never soon enough.
Terminal Wallflower 