i told God to wait
ill.
weird dreams today. not really dreams though.
just thinking. memories strung together in a precise fashion. not in the sequence in which they happened. not how fresh they are in my mind. not in order of importance.
i guess i'm terribly uncreative because i can never seem to come up with anything incredibly interesting.
just painful.
memories can be good and bad and anywhere in between.
but in that dream, together and in that order. they hurt.
a lot.
like a perfectly put together slideshow of events and instances from the past
on why i pray that to God to kill me now.
contrasts and similarities.
a look on his face now vs. the morning after he found out vs. now
me telling him to not tell me he loves me until (and if) he find out what it means.
me sitting on top of him.
facing him.
my head right up to his.
i whisper into his ear.
he responds.
second time i've seen a shooting star with him.
then a downpour of me telling him how i feel and never hearing a responce.
us holding hands in a theater.
i look up.
he looks away smiling.
rewind.
i'm holding his hand.
i look up.
he was looking away already.
it's harder for him to open up to me than it ever has been
i can't blame him
whatever...
everything i grieve over doesn't matter that much.
one thing matters.
thank you for still being her for me.
i don't even understand it.
but that's all it comes down to.
you're close by.
therfore, after some random tangent, my entry has a title.
(it might take a long time so hang in there, stay alert and be ready)
weird dreams today. not really dreams though.
just thinking. memories strung together in a precise fashion. not in the sequence in which they happened. not how fresh they are in my mind. not in order of importance.
i guess i'm terribly uncreative because i can never seem to come up with anything incredibly interesting.
just painful.
memories can be good and bad and anywhere in between.
but in that dream, together and in that order. they hurt.
a lot.
like a perfectly put together slideshow of events and instances from the past
on why i pray that to God to kill me now.
contrasts and similarities.
a look on his face now vs. the morning after he found out vs. now
me telling him to not tell me he loves me until (and if) he find out what it means.
me sitting on top of him.
facing him.
my head right up to his.
i whisper into his ear.
he responds.
second time i've seen a shooting star with him.
then a downpour of me telling him how i feel and never hearing a responce.
us holding hands in a theater.
i look up.
he looks away smiling.
rewind.
i'm holding his hand.
i look up.
he was looking away already.
it's harder for him to open up to me than it ever has been
i can't blame him
whatever...
everything i grieve over doesn't matter that much.
one thing matters.
thank you for still being her for me.
i don't even understand it.
but that's all it comes down to.
you're close by.
therfore, after some random tangent, my entry has a title.
(it might take a long time so hang in there, stay alert and be ready)