Mar 27, 2010 17:23
Unrequited.
Bold: Girl. Normal: Boy. Italics: Unknown.
Sometimes I would wonder how stupid it would really seem to him. How I sit here with my eyes never leaving the screen of my phone; waiting for his new text. Or refreshing the screen until it says he’s online, and yet not starting a conversation with him. Or how when I crave him, when I miss him I read the texts or the e-mails we’ve passed to each other, smiling at all the things we talked about. I really wonder what he would say if he knew how much he meant to me.
But what’s the point of these hour long conversations, those late night texts, laughing together, the locked messages I can’t bear to erase, if you could never feel the way I do? Why waste all those flowers when you know that he doesn’t love you?
It’s funny when someone says they love you, and you can’t really feel it, but when someone says they don’t, you feel every ounce of what was drain out of your being.
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She won’t come and talk to you. You should go and talk to her. You should just be around her. When you’re with a group of friends she isn’t going to run into your arms, no matter how much she wants to. You need to come up behind her and wrap your arms around her and let her friends get jealous. She loves you more than you imagine, no matter how much she doesn’t show it. But you boy, you need to show her how much you love her, so she won’t be afraid of showing it back.
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“Are you okay?” - Why do people say it? Does ‘I’m fine’ honestly satisfy you? If so, you don’t mean what you’re asking. I mean come on, look into my eyes - I’m not okay. You know I’m not okay, and you asking me if I’m okay is just reminding me how badly I’m not. I want someone to reach out a little further than just - “Are you okay?” Instead of a question, make it a statement. “You’re going to be okay.” It would mean so much more. We need to look deeper: Nobody is every okay. You know, people always ask - “If I’m okay.” But they’re never really expecting an answer, the truth. Because the reality of the matter is that if I really was okay, then you wouldn’t even have to ask.
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She wanted something else; something different, something more. Passion and romance, perhaps. Or maybe a quiet, heartfelt conversation into the wee hours of the morning. Or perhaps something as simple as not being second.
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He turned around and looked right at me, and I didn’t say anything. Not even a ‘hi’. It was as if all the time I had spent loving him, wanting him, weren’t important. It was if they didn’t even matter.
You’ve made me feel every emotion possible without me realizing it. And I didn’t even acknowledge it. Let’s start at the beginning, when we first became friends. It was insignificant, but I was high for weeks. And then you were all over her and I ran home, hid in my bed and cried all my tears until I was over the toilet being sick. Then I slit my wrists because I needed something to distract me from the pain of loosing you. And then when you asked me what the marks were, that they weren’t dog scratches because I didn’t even had a job, you look at me as if I had changed; and I looked back at you sadly, holding the tears in because I had changed, and it was all you fault. It shows how much you knew and now you know I hope you feel terrible, like I did.
I really like you. No, I LOVE you. And I want you to know that if I had the choice to go out with anyone in the whole world or stay at home with you, eating pizza and watching a crappy TV show, then I’d choose you every time.
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You might think I’m not, but deep down in the corner of my mind, I’m attached to you. When you’re around, my whole body knows it. I’ll keep talking, but my mind won’t even know it.
I think tears are the sign of breaking: Breaking with sadness, breaking with happiness, breaking with relief. Tears are the outer expressions of inner relief. And God, I’ve seen you cry way too many times over me, and damn it breaks my heart.
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The fact that you cannot kiss your own elbow shows you the fact that some things that are seem to be so, so close are just bound to be our of your reach.
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Just because something is unspoken, doesn’t mean that it has disappeared.
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It doesn’t matter how long you’ve know him, my mum told me, if he’s kept you smiling since day one, then don’t lose him.
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She has bite marks on her tongue front all the times she’s never said anything.
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But I’ll keep him, no matter how many times he’ll be with other girls, one of which he may marry someday. Because I’m too selfish to let him go. Just because someone doesn’t love you how you want them to love you, it doesn’t mean they do not love you in that way with everything they have.
I miss him in the most happy and significant times of my life. Just because you miss somebody when the world is quiet and lonely doesn’t mean that you love them. You’ll miss anyone when you’re lonely. It’s when your life is going great and you still feel that ache in your heart that they’re not hear to share in your happiness, to smile with you. He isn’t here to see that genuine smile on my face and the happiness in my life.
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And if I was in a crowd, you may not notice me. I don’t really stand out and I’m nothing special. I advise you not to spend your time on my, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to try.
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It was odd, his blue eyes met my equally blue ones and he didn’t look away. For a moment we were caught in this awkward, staring kind of thingy. And then he did the most amazing thing. He looked away, and he smiled.
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You know what? I realized something last night. I don’t just want you to hold my hand; I want you to reach for it. To reach for me. And trust me; I know how it feels to cry in the shower so no one can hear me. To wait for everyone to fall asleep so I can fall apart. To hurt so bad that you just want everything to end. I know exactly how it feels.
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Sometimes, smiling doesn’t mean happiness at all. Because maybe it’s a way of saying: “I’m managing.” But sometimes, smiling is just a way of saying: “I’m tired of crying.” Huge events happen on this earth everyday. Earthquakes, cyclones, glaciers melt. So why couldn’t you just look at me?
Sometimes, I wonder what you really think about me, or if you even think about me at all.
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It happened right then. She looked at me, and it was the thing that I had been waiting for, but we didn’t instantly fall in love, there wasn’t even a crush. It was like the feeling that I had got picked first for basketball. It was like knowing somebody thought about me for more than a second, and maybe even when I wasn’t there.
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We spend half our life sleeping, but we spend our whole life waiting. Waiting in lines, waiting for times, waiting to be old enough, waiting for a call. We’re always waiting but we don’t always realize it. Waiting for someone to say something, waiting for somebody to notice you. Constantly waiting for that one person and they have no idea that you’re waiting for them. I’m waiting for you, to see that I love you, and for you to be something more than a friend towards me. The thing is, I don’t know if that’ll ever happen.
I love you is eight letters right? But so is I miss you, so is bullshit. At the end of the day, I love you and I miss you, but you can take all of your bullshit and put it a place far away because you don’t know how I feel or how much I cry. So now, instead, I’ve got three letters, rather than eight. It’s not special, or sweet or meaningful or touching.
It’s simple: bye.
This story was supposed to last; you weren’t supposed to be just somebody in the past nor someone I used to know. But that’s just how it worked out.
Giving up doesn’t mean I’m weak, it just means I’m strong enough to let go.
I really love you.
CZW.
She was finally strong enough to let him go. But did you know what the sad part is? Sometimes she still stays up late at night and stares at her phone, wondering if he really ever missed her.
Just because I’m not speaking to you; that I don’t know you anymore doesn’t mean that I don’t miss you everyday. You mean a lot to me.