(no subject)
Or maybe she did and I missed it. She's always been so cryptic. A hundred thousand times more complex than those notes that she folds. It's not just like playing with fire, it's like trying to stick my face in it and smile. It's like trying to breathe underwater. We were always water and oil, we could not bear ourselves to mix but we looked so beautiful doing it. I never, ever, ever knew or know what she's thinking, why she's hurting, how to fix it. I always wanted to. I always wanted beautiful futures and love as thick as our front porch swing. A family, a shared name, a wooden ring. Regardless of the repetitive pain and sudden Johns she put me through. Regardless of biting my lip at hurt every day. Regardless of all the things my friends would say on her treatment of me, how people never change. At a point though, I just couldn't keep putting myself through it. Even then she had to be the doctor, the savior splitting us apart for both our sakes. The boy is the worst bit. I never would have seen myself doing anything other than running in that situation. But I couldn't just leave her there. Couldn't bear to leave my best friend and her beautiful broken smile to do this by herself. Or worse yet with Mel's attention deficit-love and psychosis. I stayed and love grew. Deeper than I could ever have imagined in my wildest thoughts. Someone else's child I loved wholly and completely as my own.
All I know is I can't save her, can't fix her, can't make her love me like that. All I know is how much hurt I would have constantly in my chest, how much sick and disappointment I would carry everywhere. Knowing just how many times the reality of me wasn't enough for her. How many times my hands and eyes and dick and smile were sold short, not enough. Never enough.
So why can't I stop wanting to run to her every time I cry. Why can't I stop wanting to call her in the middle of the night. Tell her every beautiful poem I've read, every amazing moment of a book. Why the fuck can't all my intelligence and self survival wash the stain of her off of me. Why can't I want to live, stop hurting, feel good about myself enough to not want to drink poison-she in with every breath I take. She only ever held me while sticking a knife in my stomach, one I never saw...or even felt until much later. She only ever made me true-in-the-eye promises while crossing her fingers behind her back. Maybe even never saw me as anything other than a scared child or a potential safety net. So why why why the bloody fuck can't god or my own vast intellectual analysis MAKE ME STOP CARING. Make me stop being scared in a world without her, even on my happiest nights.
Everything burns. Everything sings. And life, love, the mess of us just gets caught in its teeth. Caught in between.
I can never believe another golden word from a beautiful girl.
He ruined you, you ruined me. It's all we ever do to each other here. But I'm climbing back to my feet. I refuse not to. I've been abused and hurt by every girl I ever dated, but you were the worst. Not just because you knew me like paper glass enough to fuck every inch of me up whenever you wanted, but because I loved you best of all the things and people my life over.
I hope you dream of me till you die. I hope one day you get right and settled and good and it makes you sick. It makes you sad. I hope we burn forever in your memory, because we always will in mine. Even if I bury it deep and dark in the forever-away parts of my mind and heart.
Fuck love.
I am hope.
All I know is I can't save her, can't fix her, can't make her love me like that. All I know is how much hurt I would have constantly in my chest, how much sick and disappointment I would carry everywhere. Knowing just how many times the reality of me wasn't enough for her. How many times my hands and eyes and dick and smile were sold short, not enough. Never enough.
So why can't I stop wanting to run to her every time I cry. Why can't I stop wanting to call her in the middle of the night. Tell her every beautiful poem I've read, every amazing moment of a book. Why the fuck can't all my intelligence and self survival wash the stain of her off of me. Why can't I want to live, stop hurting, feel good about myself enough to not want to drink poison-she in with every breath I take. She only ever held me while sticking a knife in my stomach, one I never saw...or even felt until much later. She only ever made me true-in-the-eye promises while crossing her fingers behind her back. Maybe even never saw me as anything other than a scared child or a potential safety net. So why why why the bloody fuck can't god or my own vast intellectual analysis MAKE ME STOP CARING. Make me stop being scared in a world without her, even on my happiest nights.
Everything burns. Everything sings. And life, love, the mess of us just gets caught in its teeth. Caught in between.
I can never believe another golden word from a beautiful girl.
He ruined you, you ruined me. It's all we ever do to each other here. But I'm climbing back to my feet. I refuse not to. I've been abused and hurt by every girl I ever dated, but you were the worst. Not just because you knew me like paper glass enough to fuck every inch of me up whenever you wanted, but because I loved you best of all the things and people my life over.
I hope you dream of me till you die. I hope one day you get right and settled and good and it makes you sick. It makes you sad. I hope we burn forever in your memory, because we always will in mine. Even if I bury it deep and dark in the forever-away parts of my mind and heart.
Fuck love.
I am hope.