IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE
How many times have I said "Fuck this, I'm leaving, I'm leaving, forget it. Find somebody else, I'm never coming back."
The word 'never' is only powerful if you use it once.
Even though I keep trying to shy away from my history, it seems to catch up with me - bits of it. It had become so contorted I barely recognised any truth in it. And it sucks, it sucks that I have to hear about all of this again. It sucks that the wall I had built so high has sprung a leak and is letting the flood through; it sucks that I have this wall to begin with, let alone am having to repair it.
It hurts just a little, to hear the embellished rumours. Not because I care about what I am thought of as - I had long gotten past that, figuring early in high school that people will just say what they say. No, what makes my lower lip quiver is what is left of truth. I am not ready to say it, I am not ready to admit to anything. And yet, I am pushed into a corner where I might be convinced to, in attempt to put all little birds to rest. This corner is small, and my back pushes tightly into the rigid sides - there is no way I can fit, no way I can get far away enough. It is not enough to tell myself that only I know the truth, because what is the point of truth if everyone else thinks otherwise - I may as well have done such a thing, it would not have made any difference in their eyes. The appeal of being with people who don't know me has risen. I don't have to answer to anyone about any mistakes I have made, rebuke any falsities with valor. It feels wrong that this is being asked of me, because it is private, and yet I want so much for the entire story to be known so that things are clear. It is doubtful whether it'd be understood, however.
When someone hurts you, you're meant to bolt. Run away as fast as you can because that's what the pain reflex is telling you to do. It is inherent, it is instinctive. If you get far enough, you aren't susceptible to that magnetic force that pulls you back. I have run, just not far enough. Sometimes I nearly make it, this is when we don't talk properly for a week or two. Sometimes I barely make it anywhere, and I let it blow over thinking of better times. I don't like being told what to do but I need someone to ground me at the moment. I wish I had someone that would not break under vicious claims for freedom and independance(ironic how I can only ultimately gain this from being restrained), I wish someone would force me into submission. I am afraid, you need to hold me tight - arms like a strait jacket - and not let me go even if I protest. It is unfair to ask it of anyone, but I need this desperately so I can get away - so it can finally be the last time I say that "I'm leaving".
I look forward to university for this reason. Where I can start new and be anonymously fresh. The past will stay here and not meld with present as it has been doing. I am sick of being treated like shit, is it worth the love of someone? Likely not, seeing as love can't mean a thing at the moment, seeing as that love is only one way. I am not in love with anything other than routine and adoration. I have yet to love. All those I had thought I loved are gone now, and love does not abandon. By simple defines, everytime we were just two animals, who knew nothing.
The word 'never' is only powerful if you use it once.
Even though I keep trying to shy away from my history, it seems to catch up with me - bits of it. It had become so contorted I barely recognised any truth in it. And it sucks, it sucks that I have to hear about all of this again. It sucks that the wall I had built so high has sprung a leak and is letting the flood through; it sucks that I have this wall to begin with, let alone am having to repair it.
It hurts just a little, to hear the embellished rumours. Not because I care about what I am thought of as - I had long gotten past that, figuring early in high school that people will just say what they say. No, what makes my lower lip quiver is what is left of truth. I am not ready to say it, I am not ready to admit to anything. And yet, I am pushed into a corner where I might be convinced to, in attempt to put all little birds to rest. This corner is small, and my back pushes tightly into the rigid sides - there is no way I can fit, no way I can get far away enough. It is not enough to tell myself that only I know the truth, because what is the point of truth if everyone else thinks otherwise - I may as well have done such a thing, it would not have made any difference in their eyes. The appeal of being with people who don't know me has risen. I don't have to answer to anyone about any mistakes I have made, rebuke any falsities with valor. It feels wrong that this is being asked of me, because it is private, and yet I want so much for the entire story to be known so that things are clear. It is doubtful whether it'd be understood, however.
When someone hurts you, you're meant to bolt. Run away as fast as you can because that's what the pain reflex is telling you to do. It is inherent, it is instinctive. If you get far enough, you aren't susceptible to that magnetic force that pulls you back. I have run, just not far enough. Sometimes I nearly make it, this is when we don't talk properly for a week or two. Sometimes I barely make it anywhere, and I let it blow over thinking of better times. I don't like being told what to do but I need someone to ground me at the moment. I wish I had someone that would not break under vicious claims for freedom and independance(ironic how I can only ultimately gain this from being restrained), I wish someone would force me into submission. I am afraid, you need to hold me tight - arms like a strait jacket - and not let me go even if I protest. It is unfair to ask it of anyone, but I need this desperately so I can get away - so it can finally be the last time I say that "I'm leaving".
I look forward to university for this reason. Where I can start new and be anonymously fresh. The past will stay here and not meld with present as it has been doing. I am sick of being treated like shit, is it worth the love of someone? Likely not, seeing as love can't mean a thing at the moment, seeing as that love is only one way. I am not in love with anything other than routine and adoration. I have yet to love. All those I had thought I loved are gone now, and love does not abandon. By simple defines, everytime we were just two animals, who knew nothing.