I reached a destination of what had seemed to be welcoming.
Partying was the first objective. Partying was what was on everyone’s agenda.
I enjoyed myself, fully. I played the game. I drank the poison that everyone so dearly and clearly encouraged.
After a few sips and a few inhales of intoxication I sought myself turning into an androgynous mess.
Then I saw you.
I don’t know how I did it. I don’t know how I got up. I don’t know how I found the sobriety to introduce myself to you, but I did.
Things turned around, one thing lead to another, and I became intimate with you.
I didn’t care. I didn’t think it’d be important. I didn’t think you’d like me. So I told myself in advance that this was nothing. Nothing at all. We were to two people who met and touched all in one night and that is all it was ever going to be.
But it was much more than that.
I was vile, but you were sweet. I was rude, but you were polite. I kept going on about how I didn’t like you, and you kept raving about how much you enjoyed being near me.
I confused you just as much as you confused me.
I pushed you away, and you kept pulling me in closer.
I faulted and fell apart and you pulled me together as much as you could.
You weren’t in the best shape to begin with but you helped me anyways and that was the part where I didn’t understand.
I love you, in an odd way. I love you in an odd way, but just a little bit.
I sang a little tune waiting for you under the stardust and moonlight. The highway is my security, as you were. I hummed myself to sleep, reassuring that I’ll be okay til the sun came shining through. I closed my eyes and drifted away into a deep sea of slumber.
The night was cold, but I had the smell of you to comfort me.
The sun beamed it’s ray’s on my skin in a harsh fashion. I awoke from the heat. I put on a different personality that day, and I waited for you to come. You didn’t show up that morning. I continued the day in silence, without companionship, you learn to hold your tongue.
Hours went by and I roamed around, having the death of my technology defeat me. Casually maneuvering myself across town, house to house, park to local shopping areas. I didn’t see you.
I ran into who I thought was a friend. Telling me things I didn’t want to hear, telling me truths that I didn’t want to see. I wanted to cry, but I knew that I couldn’t because it wouldn’t have been okay to do so in front of him.
He continuously told me I was nothing, over and over again. Nothing compared to what you already have. That my time and being in the place where I was, was stupid. I was nothing compared to most things. And that in itself triggered all my negative thoughts. Being told that someone I cared for didn’t mind if I was dead. Didn’t mind if I was not okay.
“I have no perception of time. Time is man-made anyways. Made by men to keep other men in check. Time to wake up, time to eat breakfast, time to go to work, time to be at the dentist, time to pay the bills, time to eat dinner, time to sleep, time to wake up again. It’s endless. There’s no time when you die.”—RAV (via warrioress)
My friends see that I’m stricken with romance and I keep denying them. I know that the truth in my head is floating around waiting to come out, but I know that if I say certain words, do certain things, the result of all this petty summer romances is that I’ll be walking on egg shells.
I’m too proud to let myself go. I’m too proud to fully give in. I’m not skilled enough to play this game.
Dealing with the thoughts in my head, I came to an honest conclusion. My first and only real relationship was something that I’m grateful for. I’ve learned not to promise things when I’m happiest, and to also refrain from saying things when I’m angry.
Maybe the THC butter in my white macaroni and cheese is slowly hitting me, maybe this whole thing isn’t making any sense to anyone, and I’m probably being so vague because I’m not aware that the whole story is here or not.
None the less, if I ever choose to go back and reread this, it’ll make sense to me. To sum up what I’ve been thinking of in the past week or so, is that I’m infatuated with an idea that shouldn’t be allowed to happen.
I wish you knew how wonderful you really are. I know there has been a number of times where I had told you similar things to, but your cracks and wrinkles are wearing you out. I can see right through your teeth. You’re smile isn’t but a poorly created mask that reveals what you’re really thinking. At first I use to be scared of you, not knowing. But now that I know as much as I do, it’s still just as scary.
You promised, you promised, and if you leave that’s all I’m going to be screaming.
You’re not beautiful, you’re not special, no one likes you. You’re not anything anyone wants until they need you. You are last, never first, but you learn to accept this. You do not matter, no with all that is going on. You do not matter, due to massive issues. You are not important.