| Current music: | smashing pumpkins//set the ray to jerry |
While I think about him a little less these days, he's become this vauge outline in my life. Something made of shadows and haunting. I barely knew him, and those moments we shared I do not allow myself to think about. They were great, strong, true, and they are gone. So why torment myself with something that threatens to be so tangible? His presence is trailing infront of me every step of the way, and its enough. He was everything I wanted to be but hadn't the courage for. I both envied and hated how easy it was for him to pick up and go. He's met me before, and he's left me before in another state just as easy.
Look at me now; three weeks give or take and I'll be on my way across the country in search of experience.
I would have loved him.
I wasn't good enough. I was too hard and faithless. He needed soft waves and white button-ups. Sunshine and freckles. Gold sandals and ivy. I came with scars and t-shirts. Velcro shoes and rain.
Even after that week of agonizing want and uncertianty mixed with panic; ignored texts and my wordless goodbye, I would still drop everything and run to him. He took the thought out of the feeling. Chemical reactions became love letters through snailmail.
I felt it. His presence cut through the buildup and pulled me out.
Now I wrap the wool back around me and breathe in the dull.
What is he doing right now?
and does he ever miss me?
I can't believe I let myself care this much. It's been months, and I feel pathetic.
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