but I figure I might as well, before I forget the feeling. Everyday, every morning, afternoon, and night, your name surprise slips into my head. It’s not like I like the reminder of you; cause in actuality, I fucking hate it. Every bit of you, your name, your eyes, your words, they’re what I run from most. None of this is because you’re a bad person, because you’re not, at all. You’re in it for yourself, just like I was. It’s understandable to want something, then throw it away once you have it. Most people work like that; we’re all selfish pieces of shit only looking for our own fix. And despite me being happy with you, smiling to the sound of your name and your words, melting to the sight of your eyes as they stared into mine, I’m done pretending two people could last when personalities can intertwine together only so intricately.
Life is unpredictable, yet perfectly picked out by each and every one of us. We may not choose who walks in, but we certainly may choose who to walk away from. And for you, that was me. I’m not over here crying about how some boy left, rather, simply contemplating why any of it happened in the first place. Where’s the purpose behind people’s relationships, to bring them out of their routine, their comfort zone? Or maybe, is it because however grand we feel we live our own lives, we’re alone; we’re always alone. So much depth falls into the soul of one individual; just think of the life you yourself have, how each second of it could never be fully calculated, how every moment could never be fully explained, how each thought will never fully be expressed. Each of us, being trapped behind this flesh that somehow holds together an entire lifetime of ideas and actions and emotions, will still always crave more. We’re inadequate, no matter how satisfied we find ourselves. We’re broken, and little, and misunderstood. And with this, with this fragility we carry around each day, holding our heads high because that’s the only way we know how to somewhat feel worth while, we’ll never stop chasing for more, for that something, that someone that not only knows you’re there, but reminds you yourself that you are. To someone, your words are no longer just sound, but a soul. Your two feet may be your platform, but more importantly, they’ve become a presence, an imprint on this planet. Having someone who you call your’s as they call you their’s, it keeps us going. It keeps us feeling alive, feeling full.
But no matter how full we may feel, waking up each morning to a face that keeps the blood in our bodies bubbling and the beats in our hearts pumping, it can only keep us pretending for so long. However full someone makes us, we can never fully ignore the darkest part of ourselves, the one that says all we have is the bones growing weaker and weaker within us, all we have is the here and now and the human being we call by our name. Because in the end, a you and I, a me and you, it’s only as good as the sky is to the sea
a cover up, a facade, a color that only penetrates so deeply, so deeply until the dark in us once again takes over, forming us no longer as a we, but you as you, and me, as me.
instead I just showered, now I’m cleaning, “feel it all around” sounds so nice playing, and I still need to study for my test tomorrow .. for a class I haven’t been to since the last test, 2 weeks ago ..
“If someone breaks your heart, just punch them in the face. Oh sure, it seems obvious now, but you’d be amazed at how many people don’t think of it when it's relevant. Seriously, just punch them in the face, and go get some ice cream.”