“I’ll always be here waiting for you,” were the words I never said, but wished I did. And even if I never have the chance to say them, I will always mean it for as long as I lives. If only you knew that my heart beats for you. Because home is where the heart is, and you have mine. So no matter where you are, no matter where you go—a piece of mine will always follow. And that’s just enough for me to keep on going, and hoping.
Everyday I feel you slowly fading away from me little by little. I feel us fading. But us never happened and I’m hurting by that fact every second in my life. It’s like ever since you met that person, I felt a void starting to emerge. I wish I could tell you everything. Everything that I feel about you. But I can’t. It’s impossible. Even if I was given the chance, I wouldn’t be able to. I don’t think I could ever form the words that could possibly describe how I feel about you, and how you make me feel. So I’ll stay quiet. Because staying quiet is all I can do. Staying quiet is what I do best,
and it hurts.
When your new boyfriend tells you that he loves you for the first time, you call me first. You say you can’t handle it. You say it’s too soon. You say words like smothered and clingy and I’m digging my teeth into my tongue because you must be the last person to know, aren’t you, you really must be the last fucking person on this earth to have a clue.
You demand to know what makes you so lovable. I say empty, meaningless words like nice and funny because the truth is a lump in the throat. The truth is that I want everything that has to do with you, that sometimes that want is another living, breathing organism—a phantom limb of longing. You press harder, croon promises of everlasting friendship into your end of the line and I wonder if you can hear me falling apart at the joints on my end.
I don’t know when I’ll finally be able to stop writing about you but I imagine it will happen when your new boyfriend tells you that he loves you for a second time and you don’t call anyone. You swallow the heavy. You know you’ll get there eventually, that soon he will be who you call when you want reassurances of love. My face is already starting to blur.
You say it back to him.
I barely trust anyone. Not even myself, at times. But I’ll always go with what I feel is best. The moment I second-guess is when I’ll know that it’s not right. I just go with what I feel. I trust my own instincts more than anyone else.
The thing with life is that as it goes on, it changes. And we also change. It’s inevitable. That’s just how the story goes. As time goes on, we learn more and more about how things work. But of course there will be plenty of things in this world and in our lives that we’ll never come to truly understand. Such as my mind that you’ll never be able to grasp in the palm of your hands. I don’t believe that it’s always going to be a disaster if you can’t trust someone. We live in a world full of strangers and people that we can’t place our faith in. And that’s where the true adventure comes in. It’s going to be the lies, the backstabbing, the pain, the tragedies, the risk-taking, and the fear that’ll make your life worthwhile.
You just kind of have to see it in a different light.
I’ve already come to the conclusion that no one will ever fully understand me. And it’s one of the various reasons why I keep certain ideas, or thoughts, or feelings to myself. I could never explain such things in a way that’ll satisfy me. I could say the simplest thing and have a world full of complications behind it.
I often struggle with finding the right words to say. But it’s not like I struggle and feel defeat. No, I rarely feel defeat. Because accepting the fact that you will never understand has allowed me to move away from the world that you live in, and come to understand my own. That’s why I don’t let things upset me much. And for those who wish to bring negativity to my name, I only find it amusing that I am worthy of your precious time when you aren’t of worth in my eyes. You don’t mean a thing to me. So why waste your breath?
People tend to constantly want reassurance and acceptance from others. And it’ll be to the point where they live by the opinions and thoughts of strangers. It’s a sad road to walk down.
You only pretended that you were independent and strong and didn’t need anyone else by your side. And you did a great job at making everyone believe so. You even fooled yourself. You would always tell others that you could stand on your own, but little did you know, you were only holding onto the idea of standing on your own. And I knew this. I saw right through you.
Sooner or later, love is going to get you, I thought. And it did. And it changed everything for you. You were so caught up in this storm that you became a different person. I guess that’s what love does to you. You were weak all along. And I suppose love makes you even weaker, and vulnerable. I could never do that myself. I couldn’t allow it. It’s nice to see, but in my eyes, it’s sad at the very same time.
As I drown in my own despair with cups filled of caffeine to numb the thoughts that flood my mind, only between the hours of sleep and awake is when you’ll truly find me. But you’ll never find me vulnerable. I can never seem to let my guard down. Even when there isn’t a single soul around.
They’ll always tell you to have hope. Through past personal experiences, I’ve learned to never keep my hopes up when it comes to people. But I’ll have hope for life, for dreams, for myself. Never others. The way I’ve learned to see it is to become indifferent to people. In other words, don’t keep your hopes up. That way you can almost never be disappointed, but you can be content—or even beyond that.
Some people don’t know how to deal with pain so they resort to other unfortunate measures. What if I told you there was a way out? Would you take my hand? And it’s not death. Death isn’t always the answer. It’s more like, pressing pause and quietly slipping away from it all. From one world to another. It’s dangerous, though. Once you learn how to jump back and forth, there is a chance that you’ll find yourself detached for good—like me. And there’s no going back. There’s always a price to pay.
I fear the thought of being attached to someone for the rest of my life—holding on to something that could effortlessly slip through the spaces between my fingers in an instant, with such ease, with no remorse. It could go both ways, of course, being attached to someone and all. You know, happily ever after. But that’s the kind of stuff you’ll tend to find in made-up stories, films, and books. And believe it or not, I’m a sucker for these very things.
I’ve been so consumed by it all to the point where lonesome nights are not entirely lonesome any longer. But these things are like a double-edged sword. They have the capability to ease my soul and at the same time they tear away at my heart, bit by bit. Because these things will fill you up false hope, unrealistic (at least in the eyes of others) expectations, and turn you into a hopeless romantic—an idealist, a dreamer.
But there is nothing wrong with being a dreamer.
I believe we all have someone that’s perfect for us. We all want someone to love our imperfections. When we meet our perfect person, they will love our imperfections because deep inside, they want someone to love them regardless of their own imperfections as well.
