Please Ignore.
You’ll never understand it.
You’ve tried. Sure, of course, you’ve tried. You’ve asked questioned and made observations and tried so fucking hard to understand…it.
Them, you should say. You’ll never understand them.
“They just are.” People say. They just are. There’s no point trying to figure it, them rather, out. They are un-understandable. They are what they are.
Some things in life just are. You don’t try and question them. You just accept them and move on, work around them.
But of course, because life is cruel and the world is an unjust place, you couldn’t just accept it and move on. You went and fucking fell in love. And so you suppose, it’s your fault, really. For going and feeling the way you feel. If you hadn’t been in love you would never have tried to question it (them) and you would have saved yourself a lot of everything.
The real problem was that you thought you were special. You thought that you’d be the one who would change it all. It was stupid and doomed for failure (you knew that, really. The whole damn time.) but you did it anyway. You laugh at yourself, now. Like…what made you think that you were enough of anything to go and change it. It can’t be.
“They just are”
But you didn’t understand that then. You knew a lot less then than you do now. And you were in love. So, you were allowed to think stupid things like that you were enough or like it was breakable. Yeah, you blame love.
Or maybe you blame her. Cause really, she started it. By being so.
So you fell in love with her, like everyone else in the entire world, you fell in love with her. She didn’t even need to love you back (she didn’t, she never even made you think she did.) but you got this idea in your stupid head, like everyone before you, that you might have had a chance with her…that you two could have been something.
You didn’t take into account that she was part of a they and that they was like nothing else. You were in love with a part. A piece of something more.
They were a puzzle and you only wanted one part. But they were a they. And you were just a you and if they weren’t a they, they wouldn’t have been them.
They were each other. They chose each other. Every single time. And here you were, thinking…deluded by something (love) that she might choose you.
She didn’t. (You knew, the whole damn time, they always choose each other.)
You’ve tried. Sure, of course, you’ve tried. You’ve asked questioned and made observations and tried so fucking hard to understand…it.
Them, you should say. You’ll never understand them.
“They just are.” People say. They just are. There’s no point trying to figure it, them rather, out. They are un-understandable. They are what they are.
Some things in life just are. You don’t try and question them. You just accept them and move on, work around them.
But of course, because life is cruel and the world is an unjust place, you couldn’t just accept it and move on. You went and fucking fell in love. And so you suppose, it’s your fault, really. For going and feeling the way you feel. If you hadn’t been in love you would never have tried to question it (them) and you would have saved yourself a lot of everything.
The real problem was that you thought you were special. You thought that you’d be the one who would change it all. It was stupid and doomed for failure (you knew that, really. The whole damn time.) but you did it anyway. You laugh at yourself, now. Like…what made you think that you were enough of anything to go and change it. It can’t be.
“They just are”
But you didn’t understand that then. You knew a lot less then than you do now. And you were in love. So, you were allowed to think stupid things like that you were enough or like it was breakable. Yeah, you blame love.
Or maybe you blame her. Cause really, she started it. By being so.
So you fell in love with her, like everyone else in the entire world, you fell in love with her. She didn’t even need to love you back (she didn’t, she never even made you think she did.) but you got this idea in your stupid head, like everyone before you, that you might have had a chance with her…that you two could have been something.
You didn’t take into account that she was part of a they and that they was like nothing else. You were in love with a part. A piece of something more.
They were a puzzle and you only wanted one part. But they were a they. And you were just a you and if they weren’t a they, they wouldn’t have been them.
They were each other. They chose each other. Every single time. And here you were, thinking…deluded by something (love) that she might choose you.
She didn’t. (You knew, the whole damn time, they always choose each other.)