Polar bears, rubber bands, big hoodies, pencils, stupid/boring clothes, bandaids, my glove compartment, his couch, TV commercials, Jacka**, songs, books, Alice in Wonderland, weird movies, falling asleep on someone, cute texts, saved texts, smiling when you look at me, stupid jokes, making chapters, our sense of humor, sarcasm, holding hands…
that remind me of you.
Things do get easier everyday.
I just need to stop focusing so much.
When I clear my mind…
When I draw, sing, create, laugh…
When I actually LIVE…
I guess it’s not so bad (:
Why do I let my emotions control my life? I’m so jealous.
Because he is exactly opposite of me, so i know for a fact he’s not thinking about it like i am.
No one really understands me either. Why I care so much or let it bother me like this, but I just can’t help it?
I feel sick when I think about it…about him. I hate that I’m letting it slip through my fingers again.
This is exactly what I swore that I would never let happen again.
And here it is…
So what am I doing?
What do you think?
Should I fight for this?
I told you EVERYTHING.
DO you know how hard that was for me? To fight for you? To fight for something? I never have before; not like this. And I don’t even know why I wanted this so badly.
I don’t even know what’s happening to me…where I’m going…what I’m doing. I just know I’m not in the right places. I need to be better.
I don’t know where I went wrong. How i got this far…and how to get back…or honestly, even if i CAN or if i want to.
I just don’t know who I am anymore. or what i want.
All I know, is that I wanted you, but now everything has changed.
And maybe this is my punishment, my karma, for only wanting you and forgetting everything else.
I wish I had abilities. Patience, strength.
God, I need you, and i know it.
But what am I doing?
What’s going on? Help me.
Rescue me. I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m drowning.
I’m an unfaithful Israel trapped in the arms of Egypt.
And no matter how many times I stray, you are still there.
Why?
That doesn’t even make me feel how it should and I hate myself for it.
God…speak.
I’ve never met anyone quite like you. You’re so smart and interesting and I love being with you. I hate it when you’re not around. I’m telling you this because I want you to understand why i like you so much, and why I want to make this work so badly. I know you think it’s all drama and fights, but it really isn’t. We can work past that, if you’ll let me. I don’t want to be without you. You make me so happy when you’re around, even when you’re being rude. I can never stay mad at you. Yes, we’re opposite, but that’s why we’re interesting. That’s why it’s magical, because we have every reason not to be together, but we can be. I don’t want you to be another guy to slip through my fingers; especially you, because you’re so different to me. These past few days, I’ve realized how much I like you. I miss being around you. I don’t know how you feel or if you even still like me, or care about me, but I haven’t been able to shake you from my mind. Everything I see reminds me of you or stupid stuff we’d say or do. Just let me show you what we can be. Don’t give up before we got a chance to try.
Sometimes you’re a sarcastic douchebag.
You steal all my pillows.
You still respect me.
You eventually give into me.
You put on an attitude, but let me see you on the inside.
You make yourself vulnerable to me.
You laugh at me.
You make me laugh.
You tell me everything about your life.
You let me in little pieces of you.
You share pictures with me.
You buy me stuff.
You like to annoy me.
You like it when I’m a sarcastic douchebag back.
You think I’m annoying and still hang out with me.
You sit with me.
You stay up all night talking to me.
You talk to me for hours and hours.
You make the most ridiculous inside jokes.
You can be serious yet funny.
You’re blantanly honest.
You know where to draw the lines.
You’re so smart.
You always act like you know what you’re talking about.
You take time to figure out.
You don’t put all the cards on the table, but just enough to let me understand you.
You ask me how I feel even when it makes you uncomfortable.
You make me wanna slap you in the face, but I can’t stay mad at you for more than 2 seconds.
You can’t stay mad at me.
You act like you don’t care, but you actually do.
You decide to be nice to me sometimes.
You share the blanket.
You get up to let me sit in the chair.
You remember the little things.
You remember everything.
You read.
You admit things.
You’re honest and you’re vulnerable and you’re okay with that.
You act like you’re tough at the same time somehow.
You pull it off.
You know when you look good.
You’re not insecure.
You are insecure.
You’re a mystery.
You’re unpredictable.
You’re boring.
You always have something to say.
You have a deep past.
You always have a long irrelevant story.
You always listen to my long irrelevtant stories.
You make me miss you so easily.
You always make me want to see you.
I miss you.
I hope this will work.
Is it possible? I hope so. Because today…
Day [1]
I just saw a face…
I’m not even kidding either. He has the most adorable smile. It’s funny how we met, truly. And I might be a hopeless romantic, especially after watching the 500 Days of Summer, but I feel like it was fate. Like if everything had just gone as planned, we would have never met.
I mean, there were 269 seats in that auditorium.
I was late because there are two room 101s.
I was also late to Psychology earlier that morning and was forced to sit on the floor, even though there were a few empty chairs; because if you know me, I hate walking in late and attracting attention, so I’ll do anything to avoid it at all costs.
But when I walked into Music Appreciation, I was sick of sitting on the floor from Psychology, so I sat in a chair anyways, which would never usually EVER happen.
I walked towards it and turned away because there was a backpack on the chair, but for some reason, I asked anyways if the seat was taken, and it wasn’t.
So I sat.
I stared straight the whole time, too anxious to look at the people next to me. I always hated people staring at me, so I never stared at people.
Of course, my flip flop falls off into the platform in front of me.
And of course, the chairs are the squeaky kind that make loud noises during awkward silences if you move a muscle.
So then it happens.
He laughs.
And I turn towards him, seeing his face for the time.
And I laugh.
And I realize how cute he is. And how warm his laugh seems. And how he isn’t my usual type. And how he really isn’t even as hot as most college guys I’d seen were. But for some reason, he attracts my attention.
And he smiles.
And I smile.
And I feel it. And I don’t believe in love at first sight, but I believe that he made me feel something crazy.
And I’m hoping that this Day 1, has a Day 2, and a Day 3…and even a Day 500.
Because I’ve just seen a face…
That’s why I love 500 days of Summer so much. It’s not sugar coated. It’s raw and real. It’s not a love story,
it’s a true story.
The world is opening up to reality. Fantasy was beautiful and still is, but reality brings relevance and depth. It brings something worth watching, and worthwile. It’s nice to see the whole happy ending and true love epidemics, but there is something so refreshingly beautiful about heartbreak. About reality. About truth.
I don’t know why, but when bad things happen to me, it’s like they pile on and on. From sickness to heartache to sadness, from shelter-less to love-less to gossip and rumors. And all of a sudden everyone’s talking and assuming and thinking when nothing at all has changed. They don’t even know what’s happened behind closed walls. Why you feel the way you do or where you’ve been. And you wish you could just break through walls and tell people what’s really going on deep inside, that it’s not what they think, not at all.
But maybe you just trusted someone so much and they let you fall so hard that you’re just ashamed. You feel stupid and ugly and worthless because you’re the only one who didn’t know and who never saw it coming. And not only did you lose love, but a sisterhood along with it. Betrayal is never beautiful. And maybe it made your stomach churn and your head ache and your heart break.
What’s real anymore?
Who am I even writing to?
and does anything I say make a difference?
of being sick and tired.
I’m sick of not being able to hold your hand during a movie or ride shotgun in your car. I’m sick of not being able to hug you when I want or just laugh at nothing with you. I’m sick of not being able to text you just to tell you i miss you or you not laughing at my stupid jokes. I’m sick and tired of being without you. I’m sick of crying myself to sleep and wondering where you are and who you’re with. I’m sick of missing you so much. I’m sick of waking up with this empty pit in my stomach. I’m sick of wanting your hands around my waist and your lips on my cheek. I’m sick of making fun of you and the things you say and the way we are. I’m sick of going places and only thinking of you, or the things we’ve done. I’m sick of not giving your hoodies back because they’re the only piece of you I have left. I’m sick and tired of living without you. I hate this feeling, this dragging, this pain, this stupidity. I don’t understand it. I don’t want to. I just want this to end. to be all over. I want this nightmare to stop and I want things to be back to how they were.
