(no subject)
This summer I died. Not the fatal car crash kind of died, but more of the he was my everything yet he never loved me kind of died. No wristcutting. No drowning in pills. No strings attached to the neck. None of that.
I was a zombie for most of my teenage life. Following the motions, but never really following the emotions. Then I met him. All the rules went out the window. He wasn't my type. He definitely wasn't my age. He wasn't anything I ever imagined to want.
"It started out with a kiss. How did it end up like this?" One kiss. Simple as that. Those lips that tasted of cinnamon gum made that one kiss turn into so much more. Cheaters. Liars. Pessimists. It was a place where he and I could be together, no questions asked. An unrealistic world where being who you're not was popular.
One kiss turned into two years. One little girl's fantasy about kissing an older man turned into an addiction. Not only was I addicted... I was in love. I was no longer the innocent girl my parents raised me to be. I was employed by various jobs. I handed over pleasure leaving men blown away. My talent for writing and speaking became useful in a more sexual nature. However, he was not an ordinary man. He was my Brian.
I was left playing Solitaire when I was looking to play Hearts. A lone soldier within the enemy territory of love. I fought for my beliefs. Faith in a non-existence, such as love, was the most foolish thing I could've ever acknowledged.
I remember staring straight at the wall, eyes unmoving, as his words echoed within my mind. "You're in love with me." I had known this fact for quite sometime, but to hear those words flow from his lips made it all too real for me. What came next was the beginning to a lethal numbness. "I know what it's like to be in love with someone who doesn't love you back." Bam! Blank stare at a wall; word after word failing to formulate. Of course he didn't love me. Why I thought he might... well that was a figment of my little naive imagination.
Then came the sex. To me it was love-making, passion, intimacy. To him it was fucking, sex, a good lay. I tried to be 'mature.' I fought to keep my emotion detached. Failure.
Only a few short weeks passed until my life came to a standstill.
I got one chance to see him this summer. It was the best day I had ever experienced. Dinner, movies, cuddle sessions, and amazing sex. But once the clock struck midnight... my fairytale was over.
There was shouting. Then came the crying. Aside from the tears, which were the silent type, I kept myself composed. The words hurt more than the way he glared at me. "I don't love you." He knew his words were gripping my attention. "I will never love you."
I closed my eyes. I felt every ounce of my being tense. I couldn't open my eyes without the tears pouring out; so, I kept them shut tight. I couldn't speak without my voice breaking; so, I remained silent. Moments passed. I could feel his gaze on me, yet neither of us moved to speak. Eventually, the tension began to suffocate me.
I broke the silence. "This is when you show me the door."
I didn't look back after he shut the door behind me. I crawled into my car and let everything escape. I was too intoxicated by grief to drive.
It's been four months. There has yet to be a day where I felt alive. This summer I feel in love. This summer... I died.
I was a zombie for most of my teenage life. Following the motions, but never really following the emotions. Then I met him. All the rules went out the window. He wasn't my type. He definitely wasn't my age. He wasn't anything I ever imagined to want.
"It started out with a kiss. How did it end up like this?" One kiss. Simple as that. Those lips that tasted of cinnamon gum made that one kiss turn into so much more. Cheaters. Liars. Pessimists. It was a place where he and I could be together, no questions asked. An unrealistic world where being who you're not was popular.
One kiss turned into two years. One little girl's fantasy about kissing an older man turned into an addiction. Not only was I addicted... I was in love. I was no longer the innocent girl my parents raised me to be. I was employed by various jobs. I handed over pleasure leaving men blown away. My talent for writing and speaking became useful in a more sexual nature. However, he was not an ordinary man. He was my Brian.
I was left playing Solitaire when I was looking to play Hearts. A lone soldier within the enemy territory of love. I fought for my beliefs. Faith in a non-existence, such as love, was the most foolish thing I could've ever acknowledged.
I remember staring straight at the wall, eyes unmoving, as his words echoed within my mind. "You're in love with me." I had known this fact for quite sometime, but to hear those words flow from his lips made it all too real for me. What came next was the beginning to a lethal numbness. "I know what it's like to be in love with someone who doesn't love you back." Bam! Blank stare at a wall; word after word failing to formulate. Of course he didn't love me. Why I thought he might... well that was a figment of my little naive imagination.
Then came the sex. To me it was love-making, passion, intimacy. To him it was fucking, sex, a good lay. I tried to be 'mature.' I fought to keep my emotion detached. Failure.
Only a few short weeks passed until my life came to a standstill.
I got one chance to see him this summer. It was the best day I had ever experienced. Dinner, movies, cuddle sessions, and amazing sex. But once the clock struck midnight... my fairytale was over.
There was shouting. Then came the crying. Aside from the tears, which were the silent type, I kept myself composed. The words hurt more than the way he glared at me. "I don't love you." He knew his words were gripping my attention. "I will never love you."
I closed my eyes. I felt every ounce of my being tense. I couldn't open my eyes without the tears pouring out; so, I kept them shut tight. I couldn't speak without my voice breaking; so, I remained silent. Moments passed. I could feel his gaze on me, yet neither of us moved to speak. Eventually, the tension began to suffocate me.
I broke the silence. "This is when you show me the door."
I didn't look back after he shut the door behind me. I crawled into my car and let everything escape. I was too intoxicated by grief to drive.
It's been four months. There has yet to be a day where I felt alive. This summer I feel in love. This summer... I died.