vol 1. i'm not quite sure, anymore...

When someone says they’re still in love with someone, it’s probably quite true. But we love who they used to be. Who they were when they were around us. The late night conversations, the Saturday naps, the nights where we drank and our smiles ran wild. I almost know for a fact that I would never be able to be with this person again. But my heart will always hold a place for them, hoping they will go back to their old ways and love me like before. But we all change, and I think that’s important to realize. To come to a realization that when we fell in love, we were different then we are now. Because love changes us, either for the better or worse. I think it changed me for the better, but the heartbreak shows me that this is what I don’t want and I can’t go back to, no matter how much my heart tells me that I need too, because I’m no longer in love with who they are, but who they were. And that’s quite sad.

I’m growing numb to the pain and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or bad.

I let myself slip further into that abyss of torture that I’ve grown accustomed to.

I realize you’re happy without me. And I’m not happy at all.

The things I used to love, now are dead to me. I don’t enjoy anything like I should. Everything feels so numb to me. And I hate it.

My heart is breaking and there’s absolutely nothing I can do but watch you walk away with her.

It’s like my entire existence is crumbling at the seams.

I wish you talked to me. We could be together if you wanted me. Why did you give up on us? You know how shitty that makes me feel? Who gives a fuck about that other guy. You are everything to me. All I wanted was you but you didn’t even fight for us. But now you’re happy. That’s good. I’m not.

I see you everywhere. That curb side dinner? You. That yellow car? Also you. You’re in my dreams and my nightmares. You’re in that fourth period math class that I seem to have come to like, because of you. When did I feel like I didn’t need you anymore? Why was I so stupid? Because now all I need is you. You were there for me when no one else was. You wiped away my tears when I tried to drown in my own depression. You always comforted me in times of need. I didn’t try hard enough and I thought I didn’t need you. But I was wrong, so terribly wrong. I do need you and I’m hurting more than ever right now. I’m sorry for the pain I caused. I’m sorry for breaking our trust. I’m sorry for damaging you because I know how shy you were. I’m sorry for taking down your barriers just for you to have to build them higher and stronger. I’m sorry for affecting your future relationships. I’m sorry for not giving you the love you deserve. You were too good for me. I didn’t deserve you. I hope you’re happy and doing better than me. But please don’t forget about me. As you are still the love of my life. I love you.

I just wonder sometimes if I could go back to that night and change everything. Maybe we would still be together today. Maybe we wouldn’t be. All I know is that I still want you. And I will want you for a very long time. Because I am not over you and I can see it in your eyes, you’re not over me either.

This is my new beginning, whether you like it or not.

Love. It’s a wonderful thing isn’t it? You think you meet the perfect guy than days later it’s over. Chance after chance you gave him. Nothing. Late nights given up. Still nothing. Holding onto a nothingness of “what ifs” just so you can feel something. Was it love? Definitely not. Hurt pouring out of your soul, washing over people who loved you. But they weren’t him. Drowning in your sorrows, trapped with a broken heart. But he didn’t care. So why did you?

As the rain pours from the sky, your fingers drag across my body, burning into my skin. Imprinting little shapes and words on me. Sweet whispers linger in the air. There’s the quiet patter of rain on the windowsill as you rest your chin on my head, placing soft, feathery kisses. To stay in this moment would be undeniably perfect.

I distract myself with objects to keep myself from feeling.

I think I loved you. I really did. As cliche as it sounds, you made the world seem not so bad. That day you laid your head on my shoulder, laughing as if we had no cares in the world. I thought you were happy. What went wrong?

How come everything always comes back to you? The writing that is supposed to be an escape from this dreaded reality loops its way back to you. My escape isn’t one. It is just another entrance to an internal void of loneliness and despair. All my hatred towards you, combined with the love I feel, spirals around and combusts. All because of you.

Life is a question. And so is apparently the end of all these poems.

The water drips down my spine. Around my arms. Down my legs. It fills the right ear first, then the left. Sounding as if thunder is clouding my brain. I let it pour over me as my head is consumed of nothing and everything. I take in deep breaths to make sure I’m still alive. Stepping out, I am greeted with the steam from the shower. I could write his name in the mirror if I wanted to… I abandon that thought. Opening the door, I leave the little bit of warmth that I have.

And I still wonder to this day, how you live so effortlessly, not giving one fuck about me.

I wonder what it is like to feel, to touch someone so different yet so similar to yourself. I wonder what it is like to understand someone so complex, yet so simple, that even I can’t process their thoughts. I wonder what it is like to finally love someone, when I could not even love myself. But then again, I wonder what it is like to live, because this isn’t living. Sadly, I am just alive.

We are what people write love songs about.

You touched me. I laid there, eyes closed, and you slid your hand up my shirt. assuming I was asleep you continued. I felt paralyzed, praying you would stop. Fuck, you were supposed to be my best friend. I coughed and moved around, you retracted your hand. I sat up moments later, not making eye contact. I went home that night and cried in my boyfriend’s arms. He knows what happened. Thanks.

vol 1. i'm not quite sure, anymore...

The End.