Archive for December 2015

You. I'd like to talk about you. Tell people how you are but at the same time keep it to myself so people won't discover how magnificent you are and so that I could have you all to myself and let you implode inside of me. You're amazing and even that would be an understatement. God why am I talking about you like this? I could be over you in less than a year and I'd look back at this post & be like wow was I that stupid?

But in less than six months it'll be one year since I met you and gosh I wouldn't call it love yet but I still adore you as much as I did the first I talked to you, probably more (definitely more). I adore you I absolutely do and I'd like to tell you that but I don't want your reaction to be disgusted. I want you to be okay with it (and maybe you could adore me too?) we could be totally platonic but I still wanna call you cute names and tell you how angelic you are (you are btw).

You're definitely one of the kindest guy I've ever met (even though what you do to me is horrifying and I'm still calling you kind because there's something wrong with me (and it's wrong for me to think this way)). You're so, you're too overwhelming for words.

You're you. You check up on people. You try to keep in touch with people even though you admit you're really bad it. You cut toxic people out of yourself so easily (or that's how I see it). You ask people how they are. You tell people you miss them. You keep telling me you miss me and never once have I say it back because I never thought you really meant it. You tell people to be kind. You say stupid jokes. You're dirty minded. I still remember the picture you sent me. The one you posed infront of a display window of a lingerie shop and somehow as dirty minded you are, I know you know boundaries and I adore that dirty minded side of you. You're goofy especially when you're with your friends. You tell people what's best for them. You have a thing for traveling. You often tell me how you've always wanted to escape to somewhere with a few of your friends or with the love of your life. You appreciate your friends so much even when you say you don't. You sing, oh god, so well. I'd like to fall asleep with the phone next to me with your soothing voice dancing their way through my ear canals. You play the piano and I could never get tired watching you play the piano. Your hands, the way they move. Your eyes, they sparkle as if like when you're playing you're in your own universe (and I'd like to be in that universe with you). You say gosh instead of God (and how in the world could've I noticed that). I wish I could see you everyday. I would never get sick of seeing you and noticing small details about you.

There's nothing wrong with you I know it but deep down I know you're the boy those mothers tell their seven year old daughters to get away from but somehow somewhere in my heart I know you're that lover who every mothers wish their daughters had and every grandmothers invites to dinner. You're that lover dads invites to thanksgiving dinners to question your love for their daughter. Are you willing to take over their posts as heroes in their daughters lives, are you ready to be the man of the house (you're gonna live in with the love of your life near the beach, or in the city).

But you're so sad. So, so sad and it's devastating to see you like that. I don't know you (and I want to get to know you) but I know you're drowning. I know you need love and i know you want to feel loved. You once asked me "You take care of everyone but who takes care of you?" It doesn't matter who takes care of me, look at yourself. You're a wreck darling. I mean who am I to say that you are but I'm here for you, that's all I'm saying. No one can help you but yourself, I'll be here right next to you, rooting for you, even when you don't realize it. Even when you choose someone else to be next to you.

and p.s darling, I could write about and talk about you every minute of my life and even then that wouldn't be enough.

Ignorance is bliss, I told myself and for once I truly understand that. Yea at first it was so hard to stop smiling over the fact that we're under the same stars and some nights I told myself you were the stars and that one day I'd name a star over you. But right now I've never felt so much at ease. I've forgotten you. I've forgotten how bad you've treated me although I never regret meeting you. Consider you were the best that happened (more like didn't happen) to me, I was willing to let go of the bad reminders and just hold on the good memories. I told Mira how I was over you. "Yea aha okay", she said to me. I don't exactly blame her, this is like the 100th time? Something like that, I said the same thing but I told her to have faith in me because I actually felt like I was going to get over you and I did. I was ready to get on with my life. I actually feel nothing. It only stings at night but I guess I'm okay after the sunrise kissed my cheeks, then I'm all better.

Today I was so proud of myself that I even thought, "wow I'm actually doing pretty well." Don't get me wrong I still check up on you but it doesn't make me cringe anymore & I was absolutely sure that if you were to text me, I'd feel absolutely nothing. Then you did, at five in the morning. This sudden adrenaline rushing between spaces of my veins that I never ever thought was possible. I was so angry and happy and sad and pitiful. Angry, at you, at myself because of how your treated me, because of how I'm feeling. I'm supposed to be neutral about this. Happy, because you texted me (and I wasn't supposed to feel this way). Sad, because you texted me. Do I only cross your mind when there's only lonely and drunk people on the streets? Pitiful, because you told me you were drowning I've always known that I was a sucker for you. I couldn't bear see you hurt, even it was a paper cut. I was willing to hold your hand and wrap a band aid on the cut and slowly kissing it and telling you how everything's going to be okay. But I couldn't do that now. I promised myself I wouldn't go there but sometimes you can't help but to care about someone.

You told me how I always check up on you and sometimes you just feel like crying thinking about it. I wanted to tell you, I wanted to scream at you how I cry every fucking time I think about you and how much I care for you and the things I would do for you and I hated myself for that, I'm not like this. This is not me what did you turn me into.

You told me I didn't deserve your rants. "I don't, but I want to", was stuck in my fucking head and I typed it waiting for the impulse to go to my brain and fucking press send. I didn't care about what I deserve (and that's fucking wrong for me) because I cared about you (a little too much). "You deserve something better from me" I do. I fucking do but I can't do anything about that and you're treating me like shit and how the fuck am I okay with that. Ofcourse that was all in my head. Then you said goodbye. You left me there like you always have.

I told myself I was absolutely done with you & I've said this quite some time now but I was so sure this time was it, finally. I don't need you anymore, I told myself. I've finally realized what I'm worth and how you treat me was far from that even though I accepted you as my first love. I've fallen in love a lot of times now but I wouldn't call it love. Just finding a part of myself in someone passing by on the streets or just having a crush like how they say it. But you weren't, at first I thought you were but I took the time to actually feel what you make me feel and it's not those kinds of feelings those skater boys on the streets gives you so I thought this must be it. I enjoy the moments we had together the second we started talking even though now and then I really wished I didn't come across you but every living cell in me knew I never meant that. Those moments we had together was something I'm willing to carry and bear in my mind forever regardless of what happens. You made me feel a lot of things and sometimes, all the time, all at once and for a minute there you fooled me, maybe you felt the same thing. I wasn't willing to risk what we had by making the first move or do anything at this point to ruin what we have. I like what we have, something I've never had with anyone. You showed me all kinds of signs and made me so confused to the extend that I hated myself, like I don't hate myself enough. And I was ready, ready to let you go, to let you slip away or what I'm always good at, to walk away. But who am I fooling? There's this spark in my guts that's just so curious of what you've been through and what made you who you are and I'm sure you went through hell to get where you are now. The way you told me about your first love I just imagined sadness in your eyes. How both of you fell in love but can never be together. No one knows the ache of listening to your first love about their first love more than i do. There was so much pureness in you that I find it hard to hurt you, to leave you even though I know you'd never get affected but I never wanna risk it. I'd rather have you hurt me rather than the way round. I guess that's first love huh, willing to take a bullet for them, even when they're pulling the trigger.

Date a girl who reads. Who spends her money more on best selling books rather than on trending clothes. A girl who has not enough space in her closet because she has too much but not enough books. Date a girl who updates a list of books she wants to read every week, a girl who dreamt about having a library card since she was a kid rather than a credit card.

Find a girl who reads. She's the one with an unread book in her purse. She's the one you can see her head popping in and out of the the bookshelves of a bookstore, the one who quietly does her victory dance in between the shelves once she found her book she was looking for. Who's the chick stuffing her face inside those books? That's the reader. They can never resist the temptation of smelling those yellow, worn & inked pages.

She's the girl waiting for her dad to pick her up at the coffee shop she usually goes to. Take a look at her cup and you can see her coffee is still there, cold and untouched. By looking at her lip gloss stained on the cup, she probably took one sip and that's when the barista called her name after that she was too focused on her book to think about her thirst. Take a sit and prepare to be glared, girls who read doesn't like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her her second round of her favourite coffee with your name on the cup.

Start a conversation about Murukami and what you think about him. Ask her questions about the plot of The Lord of The Rings just to see she even got through the first chapter. Understand that if she says she understood Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code she is just trying to look intelligent. Ask her what she thought Alice would've be if she didn't fell down the rabbit hole, ask her have she ever wanted to be Alice.

Dating a girl who reads is less complicated. Give her a book for her birthday, to congratulate her, for anniversaries. Show her your love for her in a form of poetry or a quote from her favourite book, show her that words are equivalent to love. Give her Shakespear, Wilde, Sylvia Plath. Understand that she knows the borderline between books and reality but that doesn't stop her from making her life sounds a little bit like the main character in her favourite book.

Lie to her if you need to. A girl who understand syntax knows behind words there's motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It's not the end of the world.

Fail her. A girl who reads knows failure leads to climax. She understands that everything must come to an end but you can always come up with a sequel. You can start over and over again and still be the hero. She understands that life is meant to have a villain or two.

You shouldn't be afraid of what you're not. Girls who reads understands that people are like characters, they develop.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her. When she's clutching a book she's just finished while weeping, make her her favourite green tea and hold her. You may feel like you've lost her for an hour or two but she'll find her way back to you. She'll talk to you about the characters as if they were real, as if they were close to her because for a moment, they always are.

You will propose to her during a concert or on someone else's flash mob. Probably on sick days, just over Skype.

You will smile so hard you'll think it's impossible for your skin not to rip open and bleed yourself out by then. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names that she thought of, kids with even stranger tastes in everything. She'll introduce them to the huge cats who wear hats all the time and that wimpy kid with series of diaries. Watch her whisper Lang Leav's creation in your first born's ears on the first day back from the hospital.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve someone who's seen the world and has lived many lives just because of some dusty books she found in her old closet. If you can only giver her monotony, a sound of her own self breathing and cheap proposals then you're better off alone. But if you want a a world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

You wanna know what happens once you kill yourself? Your mother comes home from work and finds her baby dead and she screams and runs over to you and tries to get you to wake up but you won’t and she keeps screaming and shaking you and her tears are dripping onto your face and your dad hears all the screaming and runs into the room and he can’t even speak because the child that he loved and the child that he watched grow up is gone forever and finally your little sister runs into the room to see what all the fuss is about and she sees you dead. The person she looked up to and loved. The person she bragged about to her friends, the person she wanted to be just like when she grew up, the person that made her feel safe. But she’s never really going to get to grow up and smile and laugh and love because she’ll always be consumed with this feeling of missing you.

And now there’s something missing from your family and they can barely look at each other anymore because everything reminds them of you but you’re gone and hurts more than anything. and you think that your mom never cared because she was always busy and yelling at you to finish your homework and clean your room and forgot to say I love you sometimes but really, she loved you more than anything and she doesn’t leave the house anymore, she can’t even get out of bed and she’s getting thinner and thinner because it’s too hard to eat. Your father had to quit his job and he doesn’t sleep anymore, every time he closes his eyes he sees his baby dead, and the image never goes away no matter how much alcohol he drinks.

And at school your best friend sees that your seat is empty and she gets this sick feeling in her stomach and that’s when she hears the announcement. You killed yourself. And suddenly she’s screaming and crying in the middle of class and no one even bothers comforting because they’re all busy sitting there staring at your empty seat with tears dripping down their cheeks and all she wants is for you to hug her and tell her it’s gonna be okay like you always did, but this time, you’re not there to do it, everything is dark now that you’re gone and her grades are slipping, she barely goes to school anymore and she ended up in hospital after taking too many pills because she wanted to see you again. the girls who used to make fun of the way you dressed feel their throats get tight, they don’t talk to each other anymore, they don’t talk to anyone, they’re all in therapy trying so hard not to blame themselves but nothing works. and your teacher who always gave you a hard time stares blankly at the wall, she quits her job a few days later.

And then your boyfriend hears the news and he can’t breathe, he still calls you a lot just to hear your voice and he talks to you on facebook but you never message him back, he can’t fall in love again because every girl he meets reminds him of you, he’s never going to get over you, he loved you and he cries himself to sleep every night, hating himself and slicing his skin because he couldn’t save you and he’s never going to hold you in his arms or hear you laugh again. Now everyone who knew you, whether they were a big part of your life or someone you passed in the hallway a few times a week, they carry this aching feeling around inside them because you’re gone, and they miss you, and they don’t know why you left but it must’ve been their fault and they should’ve stopped you and they should’ve told you they loved you more and that feeling is never going to go away. And so you killed yourself

but you killed everyone else around you too.

About Author

Follow Me

POPULAR POSTS

Categories

Blog Archive

About Me

Popular Posts

Labels