12:23AM - spreading the word. i wrote something that deserves attention (..nothing new, but this is awesome..)
your kiss meant the world to her.
the first kiss you ever gave her stuck with her like krazy glue.
now she wishes she could use that crazy glue on her heart.
to fill the cracks so that the salty water that frequently drenches her face no longer leak from her eyes.
thinking back on the good times makes her cry.
"is that supposed to happen?" she wonders. "why is it that every good thing that happens to us, when it ends, only brings tears and heartache[s]? is that so necessary?"
she struggles with the fact that with all the joy comes such deep despair, pain, and the drowning feeling she feels when she cannot keep under control the leaking still occurring through her eyes.
she doesn't do it on purpose.
she hopes you didn't either.
"did i do something wrong?" is the question that frequents her mind.
"was it the way i was in bed? was i that bad? or did i just bore him? was i too inexperienced? was i too needy? was i too attached? too dramatic? did i care too much?"
she just wants the questions to disappear.
this is the beginning of the longest mourning story in the world.
at least that's how it feels to her. like the sorrow, the pain, the regret - none of it - will ever go away.
she constantly listens to songs that remind her of you.
songs that tell her she's better than this. that she shouldn't be just a number to you. just another girl in your repertoire.
but she knows she is.
she listens to the song that played when she gave everything, all of herself, to you.
it was ironic, the theme song to her favorite movie, to the movie with her fairytale, ideal, romance, playing while she was doing something she hoped to bring her something similar.
it didn't. it brought just the opposite.
more hurt than she could have ever imagined.
she's reached out to you. she's tried. she guesses none of it was good enough.
the pit feeling, that empty, horrible, sorrowful, lost gut feeling she feels when she thinks that is worse than any feeling she's ever felt before.
but she could never let you know. for fear that you couldn't give any less than you already do.
"is it even possible to care any less than that?" she questions.
she can't see how it is.
she's always cared more about others than herself, and even with the increasing number of selfish people she's met, she still can't understand how anyone can do anything other than care about others.
but no one seems to truely care about her.
sure she has her best girl friends.
but where are the boys?
where are the boys who are supposed to like her and fall in love with her like all the movies, books, and fairy tales had always promised?
"maybe everything in life is just one big fiction novel.
one big lie to keep you hoping and wishing for more.
to keep you hanging on in times of despair like this," she thinks.
she knows nothing more that could lead her to believe any different[ly].
all she wants is to kiss you one more time.
to have a real final goodbye.
to have closure.
to be done with this and know where she stands.
not in signs and ignorance, but in his own words.
she wants your lips to touch hers one last time to tell her goodbye.
she wants your lips to touch hers and tell them that there's nothing left.
she wants the sparks that she felt, the butterflies that fluttered happily everytime you kissed, to no longer be there when she thinks of your kiss.
she wants her heart to remain in one piece when she thinks of the nights the two of you spent together.
she wants the tears to refrain from falling when she looks back on her freshman year, that end of november, beginning of december, when you came to her and said you had been "wanting to do this for a while now," and held her hands, pressed your body against hers, pressing her back against the wall, and kissed her with more passion than she had ever been kissed with before in her life.
she wants her heart to stay beating, her mind to stay on track, and her life to stay whole when she thinks of that april day when you said "i understand i'm not the right person," and she thought to herself she was dumb, that there was no one else in the world that could be the right person to take away what she kept in tact, held so proudly for so long.
she doesn't want to regret giving herself up to you anymore.
but that's the hardest part.
missing you.
missing your friendship.
missing your kiss, your touch, your body next to hers.
it all hurts her more than any other hurt she's ever known in her entire life.
because it is a foreign sort of hurt. one she had never ever experienced and never thought she would. at least not so soon.
she had planned it differently.
seen it differently in all it's entirety.
in her mind it was an action of sober love.
in reality it was an action of impaired infatuation.
a fullfillment of a long-lasting crush that took up her mind and heart, and eventually body and soul.
"if only he could see," she wishes, "how much this meant to me. maybe then he might come back."
but she knows in the back of her mind, in the aching depths of her heart, that nothing could bring you back to her in that way anymore.
although still alive, they were both very dead to one another.
but all in different senses.
crushed"i see your true colors shining through"
that officially has the worst meaning in the world after today.
your true colors are the worst ones i've ever seen in my life.
last year i thought they were amazing, like a sunset.
this year, they're uglier than anything, like storm clouds about to burst out with the worst weather you've ever seen.
apocolypse clouds.
scary, harmful, and dark in the worst of ways.
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