After everything, I still think about you everyday. I feel like you’ve infested enough of my life where I’d notice you in the way that the trees swayed that afternoon or the way that my jacket hugs me on that cold morning or the stillness in the stars that evening. I just want to sit on your lap and caress your cheeks and fall into your eyes or feel your arms wrap around me when we sleep next to each other on your twin sized mattress. I told you that it would be perfect because we would just have to cuddle a little closer. And I’ll never forget that first night where we laid down next to each other beneath the stars and you told me I was beautiful for the first time.
And then I blinked and the rocky road was lined with cigarettes.
I’m finding myself growing sick of the things I found beautiful about you.
Slowly waning further away from the things that pulled me in.
My lips no longer yearn for yours, in fact they burn.
It makes me uncomfortable.
It might seem incredibly vane to some but the reason I want to work out, change my diet and keep myself in top condition is because I believe that I should be my best at all times and with everyone I encounter. Strangers, friends, family, lovers, one night stands. Everyone, because I believe that everyone should be their best at all times. After having a glimpse at what I could potentially be, I have a thirst for it now. It’s slowly becoming an obsession. To look, feel and be the best I can possibly be.
I’m going to revisit this later tonight.
I feel like I’ve been gone long enough.
I want to come back and I want to come back with a vengeance.
A hunger, a lust.
I’m taking names and putting people six feet deep.
I’m coming back and I’m not entirely who I was.
I’m darker, hungrier, spookier and creepier.
I’m eating people alive like there’s blood in the water.
For the past week I’ve been trying to figure out if I’m built for a relationship. If I have the capacity for a relationship. To be devoted to someone, solely, purposefully. That someone could do the same for me. If I WANT someone to do the same for me. It’s such a strange concept but it’s so fascinating to me at the same time because I fall in love with the idea of it.
I always fall in love with ideas. Concepts. Maybe it’s the designer in me.
I used to think that I fell in love with people, that it was so easy for me to fall in love because that’s how I was but I never really fell in love, I just became infatuated. Not even with the people, themselves but the idea of them. What we could be, the things we would do, how stupidly cute we could be. I guess that makes me an idealist.
I have no idea why I’m always in such a fucking fuss to have everything figured out already. I waste so much time worrying about doing something without even doing anything.
Getting mixed up with the wrong people, doing the wrong things.
Falling in love with people who belong to others.
Personally I don’t think I’m meant for true love. I fall in love so easy as it is, I fall in love with people on the bus. I fall in love just watching people. I enjoy good company. I can feel so detached yet so attached at the same time. It’s difficult to understand so I just all together given up on trying to, I’ve just learned to live with it as it is. I’ve learned to just go with how things are and be with the people I want to be with and not waste anytime worrying about what isn’t and biting my tongue. Life is fleeting fast and we don’t have much time.
Sometimes I just want to taste the sweet release of death, although I know, it is a wish that I can not undo. The thought of being freed from my body makes me happy. I’ve always felt limited and bound to this physical figure.
For every sleepless soul
Trying to piece it all together
But your trembling hands
They Never seem to let you
I know how frustrating
It must have been
When you thought you knew it all